


Duty & Destiny

by bluetoast



Category: Thor - All Media Types
Genre: Arranged Marriage, Awesome Frigga, Dirty Thoughts, Family Drama, Gen, Laufey's A+ Parenting, Loki Feels, M/M, Non-Graphic Smut, Odin's A+ Parenting, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Protective Older Brothers, Someone is going to get hurt, Thor Is Not Stupid, Thor Is a Good Bro, Thor reads Midgardian Fiction, War, strange pets, Ásgarðr | Asgard (realm)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-21
Updated: 2015-07-29
Packaged: 2018-03-18 21:48:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 41,108
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3585252
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bluetoast/pseuds/bluetoast
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When the war with Jotunheim ended, an arrangement was made between King Laufey and King Odin; in nine hundred years, their children will marry, with Laufey's son going to Asgard and, in return, the Casket of Ancient Winters will be given back to Jotunheim. Which children will be wed is not decided then, but Laufey already knows which one of his sons he will be sending; his newborn runt of a son, Loki. </p><p>Original prompt from Norsekink can be found in the notes.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prolouge

**Author's Note:**

> Jotun AU where Loki raised Jotun. Despite his size he survives, yet for all his cunning and magic Laufey (or other parent) view him as worthless. Over in Asgard Odin has three fine sons, Thor, Tyr, and Baldr. Oh, and Hodr, but he doesn't count. Odin can be a complete dick! Dad pissed at a son being born blind, or just never connected due to blindless and Hodr's skill vastly exceeding his own. (He doesn't need words, his just bends it with his mind or movements, like Benders from Avatar/Korra)
> 
> At thr end of the war the two kings agreed that to solidfy and make sure Asgard as victor treats Jotunheim fairly that onr day their children would marry. Neither specified at the time since they were young or unborn. But when the time comes both try to swindle the other: Laufey (or other parent) presenting Loki whom they think as weak and useless, and Odin presenting Hodur whose blind and should be grateful to have a spouse at all.
> 
> What no one expects, even the two princes, was to fall deeply and madly in love. Or even what they've done to prepare themselves to make the most of the marriage. Loki's never heard of Hodr but learns the high realms form of cooking, weapons, and is thrilled when he finds Hodr so strong in magic and quick thinking. Hodr in turn as learned every scrap of knowledge he could of the jotnar, trying to make Loki's visit/life as comfortable as possible.
> 
> -How Tyr and Thor view and treat their blind brother is up to filler  
> -Baldr, however, is extremely protective and possessive. That's his twin! He'll be miserable! Does everything possible to break them up (bonus if Loki wakes up and Baldr is in the bed with both of them. And Baldr's innocent reply is that they've always slept together and he misses Hodr)  
> \- Frigga is also concerned over Odin's actions. She loves all her children and treats them fairly. Hodur however is basically her baby. With his blindness she kept him by her side more often, and he's calmer compared to the others. She's also incredibly proud that he inheritied her magic and far surpassed her even as a child

The last feeble light of autumn shone down on Jotunheim, the distant sun offering no warmth, no comfort to the citizens of a realm that were thought to be as cold as their world. Not so – for the populace were mammals, and while they weren't warm blooded as some, still depended on heat to survive. Not that anyone outside of the realm would take the time to learn; why learn about monsters? Granted the reputation of being brainless beasts, the way Midgardians were lumped together and called 'silly and stupid' and dark-elves as 'unfeeling and calculating' – all for reasons that were usually the fault of a handful of the citizens, rather than as a whole. 

If they were all able to get together and discuss matters, they would agree that the reasons the rest of the realms looked down on them was because of their resilience. Surviving things they shouldn't, getting back to business instead of crying over setbacks like a child with skinned knees. 

Asgard should really just keep their nose out sometimes.

Foolish Midgardians had killed King Laufey's young brother, and destroying the responsible village in retaliation had apparently been one to village too many for Odin Allfather. (It might have had to do with the fact that the people there thought the king of Asgard was a god.) So the Æsir had attacked and began a full-scale slaughter of the army and people of Jotunheim, oblivious to the fact that their war did more damage to Midgard than the jotun – burning crops that the people were going to need for the winter. That was how the Asgardians were; brash and out to win by any means necessary. Non-warrior causalities were a sad, but inevitable part of war. 

The wan sun, distant and somehow cold, hung like a guttering lamp low in the sky, soon to fade, leaving the planet in darkness and the long winter. 

Utgard was in ruins. Many houses were reduced to piles of rubble and larger, public buildings were smoldering; ashes from the funeral pyres intermingled with the early snow. There was little talk among the citizens, they merely looked at one another, going about in a daze that was oddly intense; the cold was coming and soon they all must sleep. The smell of burning flesh was augmented by the sweeter scent of roasting horse meat, the gravely wounded and dead animals had been left behind by the victors, either not wanting to waste the time to heal their steeds or as a mocking confirmation that the jotun were monsters.

Laufey felt it was better to fill the bellies of hungry children than try and rid themselves of the stigma. 

Asgard had their prize; they had the Casket of Ancient Winters, the greatest weapon and treasure Jotunheim had to offer; what good was their obsidian, platinum and silver to a realm that plastered gold everywhere? So they would make stable the buildings, tend the wounded and, once winter was done, they could begin to rebuild. 

The treasure would not be lost forever; it would be theirs again. One day.

“Araja.” He did not turn at the sound of footsteps behind him. He knew his mate's soft tread better than his own. “Where is my son?”

“Helblindi is already in our nest, bundled in furs – asleep.” There was despondency in her tone and Laufey turned.

“I know where my heir is, mate. Where is my other son?” He narrowed his eyes. “Loki. Where is Loki?”

The smaller jotun swallowed and paled slightly. “He... he is in his cradle, where you demanded he be left.” He did not miss the crack in his mate's voice. When his second son had been born small, far smaller than other jotuns, Laufey had blamed many things; his mate's Vanir mother, the stress of the war, the lack of food for his mate to eat during her pregnancy. He did not hate the boy; he couldn't – but his heart was already turning from him; he would do his duty as a father, nothing more. Araja licked her lips. “I... I remembered what you told me, Helblindi has not seen him, he does not know that the babe has been born.” 

He held up a hand, silencing her. “Circumstances have changed. The Norns have given him a purpose, and it is not to die.”

“Husband?” She bit at her lip, looking up at him – while Laufey stood at fifteen feet, his mate was only nine; a political marriage if ever there was one. Such was the way of the realms. “I do not...” 

He smiled and tucked a strand of hair behind his mate's ear. “Helblindi will be raised as the next king of Jotunheim. One day, Loki will be wed to one of the princes of Asgard and Odin will return the casket. Fetch him from the nursery before it grows too cold and place him with his brother.”

Araja looked aghast. “Wed to an Odinson? They will slay him in his bed on the wedding night!” 

“I will not send him to Asgard helpless. It also would not do well for a wedding feast uniting two long and bitter enemies into a new era of peace to be followed by a double funeral.” He kissed his mate's forehead. “Go and tend to our children.”

There was a spark in his mate's eye, a look Laufey had thought he would not see again for centuries. “Yes, love.” She smiled, bowed her head and hurried away, doing her best to hide the lightness in her steps.

Laufey shook his head, watching his mate go. Loki would have a hard time here on Jotunheim; it wasn't as if there would be an option, even if he and Araja had other children; as a runt, he would at least be the same size as the Æsir. He wasn't certain how many sons Odin had, and therein was the Allfather's great problem; he had to suffer the indignity of choosing one of his precious golden boys for the hands-fasting. The Norns had already graced him with his option, sparing him the agony.

He stepped away from the balcony overlooking his capitol, in the land where he was still king. Winter would come and clean the scars of war from the land; then they could begin to heal. 

*

Asgard was a riot of noise and color. Fireworks burst in the sky, the rockets exploding in shades that reflected the Bifrost. The streets were full of people, rejoicing over a war well fought. Jotunheim lay isolated and crumbling, they would not rise again for decades. They celebrated the victorious dead, the ones who returned in triumph, and in the halls, mead flowed, the people danced and even those that would mourn losses with the dawn managed to laugh and take part. The jotun had been killing Midgardians for some reason. Or for no reason, why did monsters need a reason to slaughter?

They couldn't just go around killing other citizens of the nine realms; you could kill your own kind all you wanted – but you left your neighbors alone. 

Well, now Jotunheim understood: leave Midgard alone.

Midgard would be fine now. 

Odin had not escaped the battle unscathed; but it was only an eye. There were worse things to lose; an arm, a leg, one's own life. Laufey had lost more, much more. He had been left with the disgrace of defeat, the loss of the Casket, and his people would have to rebuild without it. Few had remarked on the golden patch that now covered his right eye, and he barely felt any pain, only a slight twinge, when he smiled or frowned, pulling at the skin. It would heal, and it was of no consequence. He could still see and he was not robbed of his magical sight in the least. 

Frigga would make a fuss over him later, he knew that. She wouldn't do it in front of the children, and it was more likely that his sons would marvel over his great battle scar the way they did over the tales of their grandfather Bor in his fight against Malekith. They were young and their memories of him not long, it was likely that they would soon forget what his face looked like with both eyes. Now was not the time to dwell on misfortune and wounds, now it was the time to celebrate and be a family again. The long balcony outside of his wife's chambers were the perfect spot for the six of them to watch the festivities and at the same time, keep their gathering private. 

The Allfather hefted Thor and Tyr in his arms, holding them up so they could see the fireworks more clearly, his eldest son's forehead barely cleared the balustrade and Thor's head only reached Tyr's chin. Frigga stood next to him, Baldr under her left arm and Hodr on her right. His youngest son wasn't looking at the sky, wasn't looking at the crowd. The blue eyes blinked sightlessly, were he to see what was before him, he would be looking directly at the large diamond and topaz pendant that hung from his mother's neck. Instead, his fingers were running over the facets, completely oblivious to the noise that made him wonder if the boy had become deaf while he had gone to war.

“Look at that one!” Tyr exclaimed as a firework burst, its purple sparks falling down in the shape of stars. 

Thor hugged him around the neck. “All the monsters are gone, right, Father?”

“They're not gone, but they will not come again.” He smiled, trying not to think about the agreement he had made with Laufey. Much could happen in the next nine centuries. When the time came, the marriage might not even have to occur. 

“Hodr, pay attention!” Baldr thumped his brother's arm.

Frigga admonished him. “We do not hit our brothers.” 

“But he's missing it!” Baldr let out a whine. 

“You're missing it!” Thor cried as one firework twisted in the sky, leaving great swirls of green. “Incredible!”

Odin didn't say anything, he was too busy trying to keep a hold on his two eldest and look dignified in the event that someone was watching the royal family.

“Well, goodness Hodr...” Frigga's voice was soft next to him and the Allfather turned in time to see his youngest son drop his mother's necklace, the yellow gem in the center now a clear shade of blue. “Clever boy.” She kissed his forehead.

In response, the boy beamed, his eyes shining with pride. 

Odin felt an odd pang in his chest; it was more unsettling than anything. He was not certain if his youngest had merely changed the pendant's color or actually transformed the stone itself. Either way, it did not matter; children should not be capable of such magic. Perhaps it was just a one-off, for all he knew, Frigga had been helping him. A tug on his sleeve caused him to look back at the sky as Thor pointed to another rocket showering Asgard, this one with giant flowers. 

“That's for girls.” Baldr snorted.

“Mama's a girl.” Hodr replied. “The prettiest girl in Asgard.” 

“Quite right, my boy.” Odin answered.

“Mama's beautiful.” Tyr piped up. 

“And Father's the bravest king in the nine realms!” Thor added, giving Baldr a look that meant it was turn.

“I've got the best brothers ever.” The next-to youngest prince grinned. “But Hodr's my favorite and I'm not going to let any big bad frost giants get him.”

“Ha! Not if Thor and I get them first!” Tyr interjected.

“Boys!” Frigga's voice was sharp. “No more talk of fighting or war! Your father is home and we are all together again.”

“Yes, mama.” All four of their sons chorused and then they turned their attention to the sky.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Frigga learns of Odin's plans. Loki learns there is a fourth Odinson.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Loki is equivalent to the age of 15.  
> Hodr is equivalent to the age of 16.

Hodr would always remember that it was raining the day his father informed his mother about the arranged marriage that had been a part of the peace terms with Jotunheim. He was tucked into a corner of his mother's weaving room, in the soft chair that smelled of lavender and linen, and he liked running his fingers over the textured upholstery, wondering if anyone else could detect how much work had gone into the fabric, stitch by stitch, and the almost imperceptible wear near the front of the arms. He rested his head against the high back, listening to the gentle patter of water on the high windows that lined the room and the even swish and slight groan of the shuttle moving through his mother's largest loom, the one that was big enough to cast eight thousand rows upon. At one time, both he and all three of his brothers could lie beneath it. But it had been centuries since his brothers came to the weaving room. 

He hated being left behind, especially by Baldr.

It couldn't be helped. There was little reason for a blind boy to take part in weapons training. He would have just liked to have been asked. He could have at least gone, couldn't he? Even after all these years, it still bothered him that he was excluded. He would still be spending time with his brothers, which was one of his favorite things to do. Hodr wasn't certain what was so shameful about him being blind and why his father kept him out of public view when at all possible. Father couldn't keep him hidden during feasts and other important events, but most of the time he was tucked away in the family wing of the palace. Hence the reason he was sitting in his mother's room, and he might as well be a part of the upholstery or gilding on the wall for all he was noticed. Just because he had become familiar with being treated that way didn't mean he liked it.

“What are you working on, Mother?” He drew a solid gold ball from the pocket of his tunic and started to toss it in the air, catching it and repeating the process. “You seem to be in a rush.”

“Blankets for King Frejaon's daughters.” She let out a soft chuckle. “I had one made, but I cannot send just one.” 

“I know.” He smiled and shifted in his seat, tossing the ball with one hand and catching it with the other. Four months ago, the king of Vanaheim, Frejaon, had announced to to the realms that he and his wife, Ingmar, had been blessed with twin daughters. It had not taken long for the gossips and chatter to begin and someone, he had a feeling it was one of Mother's more bold handmaidens, began the idea that the twin sons of Asgard should marry the twin daughters. Those girls had just mastered holding their heads up, it was far too soon to talk of marriage. Not to mention the fact that he and Baldr were nearly seven hundred years older than those girls. That was just... that was just disgusting. “I wonder if they're identical.” 

“I believe so.” She answered and there was a sharp snip of thread as she worked with a pair of scissors. “I for one, am rather thankful that you and Baldr are not.” 

“Why?” He caught the ball again and rolled it between his palms. “It's not as if it would be hard to tell us apart. Baldr's the muscle bound one who can see. I'm the thin, blind one.” 

“Oh, Hodr.” Mother sighed. “There's nothing wrong with you being blind.” 

“It feels like it is sometimes.” He straightened up as the door opened and the heavy footsteps let him know it was Father. He was about to stand up and leave when he heard the man let out a deep breath.

“King Rhojar of Alfheim has offered his daughter Ilika as a prospective bride for our eldest.” 

“Neither of them are of age.” Mother's voice was curt. “But Princess Ilika is a fine girl. However, Rhojar is being rather bold, considering that you have not chosen who will be your successor.” 

“That is why I told him I would consider it before giving him a reply.” There was something off-putting about Father's tone. Hodr wasn't certain if Asgard could stand a light-elf queen. “This is not like my agreement with King Laufey.” He said it so fast, Hodr was positive that he hadn't meant to say it.

“What agreement with Laufey?” He heard Mother's weaving stool fall over as she stood up. “What have you done, Odin?”

“When the war ended, part of the peace terms was that one day one of our sons would marry one of Laufey's children – son or daughter, depending on the circumstance. In exchange, Asgard would return the Casket of Ancient Winters.” It was shocking how much Father sounded like Thor did when his older brother had to admit to doing something that had gotten him in trouble.

“What were you thinking?” Mother's voice was vehement. “Arranging a marriage between one of our sons and one of those.. those...” She made a disgusted noise. “There was no reason to do it!”

Father let out breath. “This is an event that is three hundred years away, much can change between now and then.” He sounded slightly contrite, and at the same time, annoyed. He most likely hadn't wanted to bring the subject up until Hodr and his brothers were all of age, or at least, closer to it. Tyr would be of age in seventy-five years, Thor would follow in a hundred and fifty, and then he and Baldr, in two hundred.

“You have not answered my question. _Why_?” Mother was still borderline livid.

“To bring about a permanent peace and alliance.” Father sighed. “I will admit that it was hasty on my part, but I cannot go back on my word. It was not as if either of us stated which children would be wed, only that they would.” 

“But how...” He sensed that Mother stood and began to pace the room, Hodr could hear the fabric of her dress rustling, changing in pitch as she came closer to him and then away. “Why didn't you tell me when you first came back from the war? You have had six hundred years to tell me and yet, you have not.” 

“I should have.” He admitted, “but I did not want to spoil the family reunion and at the time, it did not seem important.” 

Hodr pressed his face against the chair, his brain trying to process what he was hearing. He or one of his brothers was going to marry a jotun? Grandmother had been a jotun, but still. His mind was racing. Well, since Tyr was the eldest, it'd never be him. Thor was the golden warrior of the family, and the fact that princesses practically threw themselves at him, and Father would never make the child who looked the most like him marry a jotun. So that left him and Baldr. Father would sooner let Baldr marry a Midgardian. That left him. 

He was going to be married to a jotun.

“Not important?” Mother screeched. “Odin!”

“We shall not be sending one of our sons to Jotunheim, but instead, Laufey's son will come here.” There was a soft clink of armor as Father stood. “Queen Araja's mother was from Vanaheim, it is highly likely that one of her offspring will be of a suitable size to wed one of our sons.” He cleared his throat. “They are still children and things can change between now and the day set for the presentation.” 

Hodr bit at the corner of his lip, knowing that Father had already made up his mind, he just wasn't telling Mother.

“I do not like it.” Mother stopped walking and Hodr heard the tapping of her fingers on a loom. “And what if circumstances change?” 

“Then we shall face them.” Father's voice remained calm. “It will work out as the Norns decree it, Frigga.” A door opened and then closed.

“Damn it.” Mother swore and then there was a rustling and the stool was set to rights. “Hodr!”

“I apologize, Maman,.” He put the ball back into his pocket. “I was going to leave when Father came in, but there never was an opportune time to excuse myself.” 

“Do not tell your brothers what your father and I were discussing, understood?” Her voice had the stern tone to it; angry at someone other than him, but the timbre of her speaking made it seem as if he was constantly telling others things he heard.

“I won't, maman, I promise.” He smiled then. “Could we have another seidr lesson later? Please?” 

Mother chuckled and he felt her hand on his cheek. “Of course, dear heart. I cannot weave all day.” She took his hand in hers. “Although there is little left I can teach you, your skills are already eclipsing mine.”

“Maman?” Hodr squeezed her hand as he rose from the chair and swallowed. “Does Father dislike me?” 

“No.” Her tone was adamant and they walked through the room, he already knew this path by heart. “Your father just... well, he doesn't know how to act around you. I suspect if you had a little sister, he would be the same way.” 

He snorted. “If I had a little sister, she'd be able to manipulate Father in a manner that would put Thor and Baldr to shame.” 

“A fair point.” Mother laughed. “I believe it is almost time for your brothers to be joining us for lunch. Your father will not be dining us, he has to discuss King Rhojar's proposal with the small council.” She made a tsking sound and then laughed. 

“What is it?” He asked, frowning.

“I just realized that I have not offered an opinion on the manner, other than the princess is a nice girl. But then, I do not know her well. She always seems shy at the gatherings she attends.” She cleared her throat. “Do not bring that subject up at lunch either.” 

“I won't, Mother.” He smiled. “I suspect that Princess Ilika is quite beautiful.” 

“Why do you say that, Hodr?” He could tell by her tone that she was genuinely curious, rather than amused, as his brothers would have been.

“I have no sense of what is ugly and beautiful, maman, so to me, everyone is beautiful.” They started down the corridor, with a thought racing across his mind – _even the blue skinned jotun._

*

Loki dropped a handful of herbs into the mortar before picking up the pestle and then began to crush the leaves, working in a slow, deliberate motion. He had to hold onto the mortar with one hand, keeping it firmly in place as it rested on the table. It was the smallest one that he could find, but even it was large enough he had difficulty managing it. The pestle was better, a normal sized jotun would only have been able to grab it with the tips of their fingers, but he could reach his whole hand around the narrow end of the shaft. He hummed absently, keeping up a rhythm as the herbs became powder.

“Don't tell me you're cooking again.” His brother's voice called from the door. “After what happened last time.” 

He looked up. “Don't lurk, Bindi, it's unkingly.” 

“Sass!” Helblindi retorted and came into the room. “Honestly, what are you doing?”

“Working on burn paste.” He shrugged. “It's one of those things we can never have enough of.” 

“True.” His brother sat down in the chair opposite him. “I don't know why Father can't arrange for you to have things your size. The residents of Svartalfheim would be more than happy to make them.” He smirked. “It'd only take a few pelts, nothing more.” 

“I cannot take said items with me to Asgard, brother. You know that.” He sighed and set the pestle down, leaning it against the rim of the bowl while he added more herbs. “Besides, I don't mind standing on stools and chairs, and I _do_ have things that are my size. Plates, utensils, cups – and having tools my size wouldn't be beneficial, I'd have to grind four times longer to make the same amount of anything.” 

He sighed. “A valid point. The complexity of those salves are lost on me half the time.” He wrinkled his nose. “What makes it smell like that?”

“It's not the leaves, it's the berries.” He nodded to an open jar. “Twice fermented rosin-berries. They're what take the sting out of the burn.” He took up the pestle and started working again. “So what brings you up here to my gilded cage in the sky?”

He snorted. “It's not a gilded cage, it's just a tower...” He sighed, “well, okay, maybe it is a cage. But you know why Father keeps you here.” 

“I know, I know.” Loki sighed. “I'm here for my safety, until I can be carted off to Asgard and Father can have the Casket back.” He had always known what his fate was going to be. Traded for an artifact to be the bride of one of the Allfather's sons. The actual event wouldn't occur until he was of age, in another few hundred years. “And it's not like prison. I have books and things to keep my occupied.” He chuckled. “Just not a proper sized mortar and pestle.” He wasn't a fool; the only reason he'd been kept alive all this time was because of that damn treaty that his father had with King Odin. He was the price for getting the Casket of Ancient Winters back. He was reasonably healthy, even if he was a runt, he had been kept out of sight and danger, for the most part, and few people gave him a second look. Left out of warrior training, he had been granted books and a modicum of freedom to pursue seidr, things that on Asgard, were considered 'womanly' and since he was already engaging in _that_ practice, he decided he might as well go all in and began studying other 'wifely' arts, such as weaving, cooking and sewing. He knew full well if not for that treaty, he would have been left to the animals centuries ago; and since he wasn't to be a warrior, but a pretty ornament (if he could be considered good looking by their standards) court, what was the harm?

Almost as if he knew what he was thinking, his brother spoke again. “How is your weaving coming along, little brother?”

Loki went indigo. “Fine.” 

“I'm not going to tease you much, brother.” He sighed. “Norns know, you take it far better than our baby brother.” 

He rolled his eyes. “Byleistr _is_ a baby. He still bawls at the sight of his own blood.” 

“That's one thing I envy about you, little brother. You don't have to have him for a shadow.” He sighed. “I'd rather have you for one.” 

“I'd get lost.” Loki replied, tipping the crushed herbs into another mortar, this one twice the size of the other. “Or someone simpering courtier would step on me, and there goes everything.” 

“Do not joke of such things.” His brother replied, frowning. “You know what...”

“I do.” He answered, sharply. “It won't matter if my Asgardian husband slits my throat on our wedding night, as long as Father has the Casket back!”

“Loki, no.” He gasped out, “do not think like that! That will not happen!”

“Won't it?” He snapped. “You know it damn well could! You've heard the talk of the Odinsons, have you not? I won't be married to the eldest, that's for sure and certain, which leaves Thor and Baldr, both of whom are known to be flirts and bullies!”

“Now, if your Asgardian husband runs off to someone else's bed, are you going to object?” His brother huffed. “Besides, there are _four_ Odinsons.” 

“What?” Loki frowned. “No, there are only three. That's...” He stopped speaking as his brother held up a finger.

“Four. There's a fourth one, not many know about him, his name is Hodr. People only see him at feasts.” He smirked. “He's supposedly a powerful user of seidr, not a warrior at all. That's why few people have seen him. Asgardians have _issues_ with men relying solely on magic, if your male.” He yawned and tossed a ball of ice into the air, smirking. “No wonder we frustrate them so, we never run out of ice daggers or spears.” 

“Or arrows.” Loki quipped, dropping berries into the smaller mortar, along with some of the liquid in the jar. “And yet, they won.” He let his shoulders slump. “I do not know if I should prepare myself for a nightmare or allow myself a dream.” 

Helblindi sighed. “I do not know what to tell you, brother. If it were up to me, I would not allow you to go to Asgard.” 

“We all have a duty.” He replied, giving his brother a wan smile. “Speaking of, is that what brings you up here? Shirking?”

His brother chuckled. “Father and Mother want to go over prospective brides with me over a private dinner. The longer I hide, the longer I can avoid it.”

Loki gripped the pestle as he worked through the tough meat of the berries. “It cannot be all that bad. Just find one who isn't looking for a change in social status. Jotunheim's future queen should be more concerned with Jotunheim and what she can do to restore the realm, rather than gaining a title.” 

“You make it sound so simple.” Helblindi sighed. “I wish it was that easy.”

“Perhaps I should be thankful my marriage is already arranged and is relatively settled.” He sighed and rested for a moment, looking down at his work. “Just don't let Byleistr marry the younger sister of whomever you marry.” 

“Never.” He sighed and stood up. “I might as well stop delaying the inevitable. If I don't go, Mother and Father will do the choosing for me.” 

He chuckled. “It will be fine, brother. You will see.” 

“I wish I had your optimism.” He went to the door and paused. “We should have family dinner sometime soon. We don't have that often enough.” Helblindi shut the door behind him, leaving Loki alone.

*

“Hodr! Where are you?” Baldr's voice called out. 

Hodr sighed and leaned back against the pillar he was sitting next to. “Up here, brother.” He lowered the book. “What is it?”

“There you are!” Then his voice cracked, “brother, be careful!” He heard his brother scramble up next to him. “You could fall!”

“This beam is seven feet wide, Baldr, I'll be fine.” He closed the book he was reading. “You worry too much, you're worse than Mother.” 

“I just...” His twin took a breath. “I worry.” 

“Baldr, I have been climbing for centuries, I know how to maintain my balance.” He chuckled and folded his arms. “I thought you were off sparing with Thor today.” 

“I was, but he's gone off with his friends and Tyr well, you know how Tyr is.” He sighed. “I shouldn't complain.” 

“Well, Tyr has more responsibility than the two of us. The disadvantage of being the eldest.” He smiled. “So you didn't want to have the sparing instructor all to yourself?” 

“Master Keln deserves some afternoons off. His children are getting older.” He yawned. “So I have an afternoon free of lessons.” 

“Not if Mother catches you.” He chuckled. “You've been neglecting protocol instruction.” 

“Augh, that is such nonsense. I'll never be king, what do I need to know who is who, who fought who, and the difference between our manners and that of Alfheim?” He yawned. “I might take a nap.”

“We need to know these things so when we marry, we won't make asses of ourselves.” He smirked. “Not that I suspect I'll ever be married, and if I do, I'll have to stay here.” 

“Oh, don't be so glum, brother.” He snickered. “I heard Father has arranged a marriage for Tyr, just as soon as he comes of age.” 

Hodr frowned, wondering what else his brother had heard. “None of us are going to be allowed to marry who we chose, Baldr, certainly you know that?”

“I know.” He made a disgusted noise. “Which is why I don't doubt Father will have you married the same as the rest of us.” 

“Why are we even talking about marriage? We aren't even of age yet.” He laughed. “Unless there's someone you are planning to start courting.”

“Ha!” Baldr cried and there was a shuffling and then a thump as his brother jumped back down to the ground. “It's all girls talk about.” 

“And you would know that, _how_?” He chuckled. 

“I hear things, little brother.” Baldr retorted. “You be careful coming down.” 

Hodr rolled his eyes and tucked his book into the bag lying next to him, throwing the strap over his chest. With practiced ease, he stood and stepped off the beam, causing his brother to shout in alarm, but he continued stepping down through the air as calm and collected as if the stairs were physically there. “And you worry too much.” He poked his twin. “Granny Baldr.” 

“Don't do that again!” A pause. “How _did_ you do that?” 

“Practice.” He grinned. “Mother can do it too, you know. Where did you think I learned it from?” 

“Well, you just about gave me a heart attack!” Baldr coughed. “We have family dinner tonight. No doubt Father's going to make the formal announcement about Tyr getting married.”

“Oh bother Tyr getting married.” He snorted. “He has to grow up first.” 

Both of them started to laugh.

*

The lamp burned low as Loki tightened the furs around him, wincing at the cold. His tolerance for the weather wasn't as strong as a full sized Jotun, and winter was rapidly approaching. He scanned the book in front of him, the illustrations showing a vast green garden, with heavy fruits hanging from trees. Things grew like mad on Asgard, where there was abundant food and warmth. The idea of actual heat in the air seemed almost unbelievable. He ran his fingers over the pictures, wondering how the actual leaves and plants felt. What exactly, was grass? Was it like grain that was imported from Svartalfheim? It was seemed to be short, so it was obviously not for eating. Judging from the pictures, it seemed to grow everywhere, so it must be ornamental. Jotunheim didn't have the luxury of ornamental plants, growing vegetables was difficult enough. It was a blessing, he supposed, that the only herbivores on this realm lived in the ocean. 

The elders had told him that the Norns shared the problems and blessing outs equally, even if it didn't seem like they did. The Æsir might have their fancy gardens, but they had to be tended and purged of pests that sought to ruin them. Jotunheim lacked pests to wreck their fields, but growing crops was difficult. The only vegetables that grew well were ones that could be buried within the ground, sheltered from bitter winds. 

Sighing, he shut the book and then blew out the lamp, burrowing into his nest. With the furs piled all around him, he was warm and almost content. What he could never rid himself of was the horrible feeling of being alone. His people tended to huddle together for warmth the closer to winter it got. In a few weeks, it would be time to hibernate for the coldest parts of the season. First, they would feast, everyone would eat until the platters, bowls and trays were empty. Then they would rest – his whole family, Father, Mother, himself and both of his brothers, would gather in the family nest and sleep. He always rested under a mound of furs, his mother's hand over him. Her little miracle, she always called him. 

If it hadn't been for the arrangement with King Odin, Loki knew he would have been left to the elements to die. Gifted with an eidetic memory (something that occurred one in every sixty thousand births among the jotun) he could clearly recall being in the nursery; cold, alone and afraid. Then suddenly, there was Mother, her warm embrace and her overjoyed face, cooing at him as she took him away to safety. Then he was with Helblindi, who cuddled him close in the nest before their parents joined them. 

Family.

Someday he would leave this place and be married to a man and form his own family. It wasn't the arranged marriage that bothered him; it was being sent to a man who would know nothing about his ways, his ideas, and would not care to learn them. Loki was resigned to that. 

Unless, by some miracle, the Norns saw fit to smile upon him and bless him with a husband who cared and would at least listen to him. He didn't have to agree, just listen. It would be worth the harsh stares of the Æsir he knew he would receive if he had a husband who cared. He drifted off to sleep, his dreams full of golden halls, gardens with flowers the size of his hand, and a youth, older than he, sitting under a massive shade tree – with hair the color of honey and eyes the color of glacier's heart.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Two weddings, two princes, two leopard cubs - and six nearly empty trunks.

If the smells of flowers, food and perfumes and the sheer noise were the only things to judge it by, the wedding of Tyr Odinson to Ilika Rhojardottir was an elaborate affair. Hodr had spent most of it sitting next to his mother, both at the ceremony and the following feast, in what was considered 'his place' the way that Thor's place was at Father's side. His eldest brother had made up Father's mind as to who would be his heir when Tyr refused the throne. He had no desire for it, no wish to be burdened with the crown. That left Thor and Baldr, and he himself wouldn't even be considered. Hodr wanted the throne no more than Tyr did, if Father had bothered asking.

“You want something more to eat, Hodr?” Mother's voice sounded exhausted, but tinged with happiness. “I noticed you didn't eat much of your dinner, are you unwell?” 

“Sensory overload.” He gave her a tired smile. “Perhaps some sugared fruits, please?” He'd barely spoken before there was a soft thump of a plate being set down in front of him. “Thank you.”

“You are welcome, your grace.” A footman's voice answered from his left.

He discretely traced his finger tips over the plate, getting the sense of what was on it; apple and pear slices, a few figs, along with an assortment of berries. He placed one hand next to his plate and took up his fork with the other, stabbing one of the pear slices – the soft meat of that fruit allowed the tines in easily – and let out a soft sigh as the sweet taste flowed over his tongue.

His mother let out a slight snicker. “I'm glad one of my sons remembers how to eat like a prince and not a peasant.”

Hodr swallowed and stabbed another fruit on his plate. “Mother, it cannot be that bad. I think sometimes you exaggerate my brothers' behavior to make me feel better.” 

She chuckled. “I do not.” 

He smirked as he stuffed a fig into his mouth, chewing thoughtfully as he heard the music change from a fast-tempo reel to a slower paced waltz. Judging from the noise, there was an exodus of people from the dance floor, the men leaving faster than the women, no doubt the only ones remaining on the floor were couples who were married or courting. 

“Your brother looks so grown up.” Mother's voice was wistful. “I just wish he wasn't leaving.” 

Hodr raised his head, frowning. “Tyr is going to Alfheim?” No one had informed of this development. Not that he should be surprised at that; he was usually the last one to be told things. But certainly his brothers should have told him.

“Not forever, love, only for a few decades.” She sighed. “He will be gone until Thor comes of age.”

He set his fork down, already knowing what was behind this move. Father wanted to see which of his two golden sons would make a better king for Asgard, and he couldn't do that with his eldest here, when there were members of the privy council and the courts who opposed the king's right to chose his heir. He, of course, wasn't even under consideration. No wonder Tyr was married within mere months of his coming of age. Most men didn't marry for at least another hundred years after coming of age, although plenty of girls were. Thor certainly wouldn't, and Baldr definitely wouldn't – but he... well, as soon as he came of age he'd be officially betrothed to the jotun prince, and then he would wait for him to come of age. “Will it always be that way, Mother? When one of us weds, we leave for a certain time?”

“No, love.” She answered, letting out a sigh. “Tyr will return, the one your father names as his heir will never leave, and you will never leave.” 

“I already knew that, Mother. No one wants a blind prince, no matter how talented they are, no matter how they look, no matter what their strength is, the lack of sight makes him next to worthless.” He frowned. “I am not worthless.” 

“No, Hodr, you could not be further from it.” There was a sound of a goblet being set back on the table. “I have no doubt that you have already realized what the Allfather plans to do with you.” Her tone was sad. “I know that is is not what I would have wished, however...”

“Mother, I am not upset with Father for what he has done. You shouldn't be either. Neither Thor nor Baldr would stand for it.” He picked up his fork and speared an apple slice. “We are told that the jotun are monsters, but what do the jotun call us? If they are the monsters under our beds, are we the monsters hiding in their shadows and under their cupboards?” He stuffed the fruit in his mouth, smiling at the sweet-sour flavor.

“I had not thought of that.” She sighed. “I believe that we have little reason to protest, as the other prince is the one who must leave his home and all he knows, never to return.” 

He nodded and selected a fig on his plate. “Would you help me find books on the jotun in the library, Mother? Ones that aren't exaggerations or fables, but true, decent non-fiction. I believe it is better for me to learn all that I can about my future spouse's people, rather than let myself be swayed by the stories I have been told.” He pulled a face. “Grandmother Bestla would have a fit if she heard even a handful of the stories I have.” 

Mother chuckled. “I will, Hodr. You haven't told your brothers what you know, have you?”

He smirked. “If I had, you would have most certainly known about it.” He stabbed another slice of apple, keeping his attention on his food. Hodr knew what would happen when his brothers learned of his predetermined nuptials, even if it was a few centuries away. Baldr would take it the worst; he wouldn't put it past his brother to try and hide him, or worse, harm the jotun somehow. The poor prince or princess, whomever they were, no doubt would be twice as afraid and nervous when the time came. His twin wouldn't be able to think rationally, and if anyone was going to murder his future spouse, it would be him. Not that Hodr would let his twin harm a hair on the jotun's head. If something did happen to him, the consequences for Asgard and Baldr would be disastrous. Thor wouldn't be as bad, he no doubt would just make snide remarks because his ability to speak and think weren't connected half the time. Perhaps his spouse would be witty and sarcastic and be able to issue retorts beyond what Hodr had heard from Lady Sif. 

The music changed again; the slow waltz gave way to a more lively folk number. He smiled, set down his fork and stood. “Mother, would you care to dance?” He offered her his hand.

“I would be delighted, thank you.” Her hand slid into his and gave it a soft squeeze. 

**

Jotun weddings were not wholly elaborate affairs, compared to the rest of the customs in the Nine Realms. Some cultures went above in beyond with celebrations, with a perfect excess of food, liquor and in some places, debauchery. Loki was already dreading seeing the excess that would be his wedding on Asgard, at which not a single member of his family would be allowed to attend. Such were the terms of the agreement. He quite honestly couldn't live with the shame of having his family, or any of his people, see the sheer waste of food that would accompany the event. Instead, he would witness it alone, smiling passively, thanking the nobility for their presence and being gawked at. 

Loki wrinkled his nose at his reflection in the long obsidian mirror, knowing that today, would be no different, here at his brother's wedding. He was rarely seen outside of his tower, for countless reasons, his small stature only being one of them. He sighed and traced his fingers down the smooth stone, before turning to look at the rest of his room. 

It was octagonal in shape, with windows on all four of the cardinal sides on the second level. That level only extended halfway over the first, letting the light from the sun or moon filter down to the first. Like everything else in the palace at Utgard, it had been built with a normal sized jotun in mind. The tower stood at the far end of the building, the view from the windows was of the mountains. When he'd first been placed in this room, at the age of three hundred and seven, it had seemed enormous. Despite the fact that each wall was two hundred feet from its opposite all the way around, and the ceiling was sixty feet up, the room had begun to shrink once he began filling it up. The upper floor was split between his library-study and the wide loom that he'd been given for his five-hundredth name day; wives on Asgard wove. Every six months, he was given a new supply of wool, rich in color and texture, and the supply never ran out. The books and the chair where he did most of his reading were thankfully, his size. Directly below his loom, on the first floor was his sleeping chamber, along with a water-closet and there was a workspace taking up half of the other side of the room, a place where he could practice his seidr and make potions, along with compounds for the rest of the household. He ate all of his meals here, save for dinner a few nights of the week. While he was at that meal, the room would be cleaned, his dirty clothes taken away to be laundered, and supplies replenished. 

Shaking his head to clear it, Loki took a step back from the mirror and smoothed down his tunic. It was a rich shade of purple and reached past his knees, almost to his ankles, and his sandals were laced up past the hem. The ceremony would be brief, and once Helblindi and his bride, Dajensa, were bound, there would be a light celebration, where the two of them would 'attempt' to sneak from the festivities, as tradition called for, they would allow themselves to be caught three times, and the next time someone saw them leaving, the observer would pretend not to see. The trick to it was that each attempt to leave had to be seen by a different attendee. Not that he expected to be there for any attempt past the first, because Sire had already told him and Byleistr that was their signal to go to bed. Much as he hated to be lumped into the same 'child' category with his brother, who was two hundred years his junior, he knew the reasoning.

“Loki? Are you ready?” His dam's voice called from the doorway. Gone were the days he went running at the sound of her voice. She was the closest to him in height, and when he ran to her, dam would swing him around as if he were a doll, and he hadn't minded; until the day came when he did. How long had it been since he used the term Mother and Father? When had that stopped? Oh yes... sometime this past century, when three of them began to pull away from each other, so that when the time came, the separation would be easier. Quite honestly, he was surprised it hadn't started earlier. 

“Almost.” He replied, feigning brightness, and quickly pulled on the long sleeved bolero, which, unlike his tunic, was the color of bone, embroidered with small purple flowers and silver vines. He tossed his heavy braid over his shoulder and tugged on the hem of the jacket. There. Prim and proper. He went into the main part of his room. “Here I am.” 

“You look so grown up.” She lifted his chin with her finger. “And you have done a marvelous job on your hair.”

“Thank you.” He quite frankly could have used a second pair of hands to help him weave the length into the braids, each of them containing a separate strand of platinum and amethysts, fastened to the crown of his head with a small clip, in the shape of the flowers that he'd stitched onto his outer garment. “I was worried it would be a problem that I couldn't get them straight.” 

“No, it looks more... natural the way you've done it.” she let out a breath. “Come along.” 

“Yes, dam.” He replied and followed her out of the room, descending the steps to the rest of the castle. He could clearly remember the day he first climbed into his tower, the feeling being that of an adventure. That changed when he was left alone; he'd cried that first night. The tower wasn't even meant to be permanently occupied. It had been built by Sire's grand-sire, who had seven daughters – whom the southern islands were all named for. As soon as they were engaged, Great-Grand Sire had placed the daughter in the tower until the wedding day. Now he was locked away, just as they had been, until he left for Asgard. Far younger than they had been, a life of solitude and learning. 

“Where has the time gone, Loki?” Dam asked as they reached the bottom of the stairs. “It seems only yesterday Helblindi was a mere child, carrying you around like a toy.”

“I would not know, Dam.” He answered, trying to blot out the memories of the time before he'd been secreted away. “I wouldn't know what season it was if I couldn't tell by the amount of food that graces the table.” 

She laughed in response, but it died in her throat and she turned to him, setting a finger under his chin and lifting it. “I am sorry that things have gone the way they have, my little miracle. You have a strength that the rest of this family lacks. Other jotun in your position would have gone mad long ago. You have borne this burden and continue to bear it with an uncommon grace.” She sighed and pulled away, and they went into the corridor, and Loki did his best to stay even with his dam's heels. 

**

Contrary to what the people of Asgard might believe, Odin loved all of his sons. He loved all of them equally, it just was a fact that he _liked_ some of them better. Well, namely Thor and Baldr, but that didn't mean he didn't like Tyr and Hodr. What he didn't want to admit to anyone, least of all himself, was that his eldest and youngest were better than he was. Tyr was a scholar and while he would never be king of Asgard, he would be an asset to the brother that did take the throne. If only his eldest wasn't so scornful of war. He could fight as well as any man, perhaps a little better; but Tyr strongly believed that fighting should always be the _last_ solution, something that many Æsir would never understand. Then there was Hodr, blind and so damn talented at seidr, he surpassed him and his mother, and he was not even of age yet. 

With the two of them that way, anyone would understand why he favored Thor and Baldr. It would have been a true blessing if _they_ were the twins. But he knew better than to demand answers from the Norns, they could sweep away gifts as quickly as they were granted. 

In an effort to prove to himself that he _wasn't_ a horrible father, he had gone to gather a gift for his youngest to give to him on the same day his brothers received their battle-horses. He frowned and shifted his hold on the small spotted cub, and in response, the leopard mewed at him, slightly confused. There were only three places in the Nine Realms that had snow leopards; the high mountains of Asgard, the islands of Jotunheim, and Midgard. He sighed, figuring he might as well tell Hodr about the arranged marriage at the same time, even if said wedding wouldn't be taking place for another two hundred years. 

He did not knock before entering his son's chambers. He was rather surprised when he entered it; there were heavy tapestries hanging on all the walls, most of them telling fairy-tale stories, the sort of thing that belonged in a room of a young girl, not a prince. But then, it did not matter to the sightless. 

“Good afternoon, Father.” Hodr appeared in one of the doorways, and behind him, Odin could see it was the boy's study. “Is something wrong?”

“No.” He brightened his expression and attempted to do the same to his voice. “I have brought you something.” 

“Oh?” With perfect grace, his son came over to him, standing a few feet away. “Thank you, Father.” 

He placed the cat in the boy's arms. “It is a snow leopard cub. I do not believe she will remain so small for very long.” 

Hodr ran one hand down the animal's back and he saw the cat nudge his chin before she started purring. “Is she from Asgard's mountains?” The inquisitive tone was light, and he let out a soft laugh as the animal licked his cheek.

“Yes.” Odin smiled, watching as the cat flicked her tail, completely ignoring him. “I know you are rather old to be getting a pet, however...” 

“She's beautiful, Father, thank you.” He adjusted his hold on the animal as it pushed against his chin again, mewing. “I will take excellent care of her.” 

“I know you will.” He let out a breath. “There is something else I wish to discuss with you.” 

The boy stiffened. “Yes, sir?” His unseeing blue eyes were focused right on him, it was unnerving. 

“Please, sit down.” It would be easier if the two of them were sitting, Odin was certain of that. Hodr merely blinked and sat down on the tea-colored leather couch, still not releasing the cat. For himself, he sat down in the matching chair, not quite certain how to begin this. “This is not an easy thing for me to tell you, but before I go any further, is there any girl here at court that... desires your attention?” It would be best to end any relationships before they became serious.

Hodr blinked. “No, Father. Most of the young ladies at court... they cannot overcome the fact that I am blind.” He gave a half-smile. “Although if you wish to know which ones fancy Thor over Baldr, or the other way around, I can inform you of that.” He let out a chuckle. 

“And you are aware of such things, how, son?” He frowned. 

“Most people tend to forget that I am present, Father. I have become quite the silent observer.” He let out a breath, almost as if he was about to say something, but was afraid to. 

Odin was somewhat perplexed. How could he have missed what his son was doing? Then he realized, ashamed; he had barely looked at his youngest. “What I am about to tell you is something you are not to share with your brothers. Your mother is already aware of the situation, and while she may not approve, she understands duty and the importance of keeping one's word.” 

Hodr's grip on the cat slackened slightly, and the animal slipped from his arms to the cushion next to him, where she started cleaning her paws. His son licked his bottom lip and then took a breath. “Is this... is this about your agreement with King Laufey of Jotunheim?” He stammered.

He blinked. “Did your mother inform you of this?” He demanded, sounding angrier than he really was.

His son became cowed. “I was going to leave the room, Father, I swear, I would have left, but I could not find a way to leave.” 

“You have been aware of the arrangement for the past seventy-six years?” He blurted, shaking his head. Damn it, what else did the boy know?

Hodr nodded, and moved a hand to set on the leopard. “I am sorry, Father, I did not mean to stay in Mother's weaving room, please, believe me.” 

He sighed. “What is done is done. Did you tell your brothers what you heard?”

“No, Father. Mother swore me to secrecy. I know the value of a promise and I would not betray her trust.” He swallowed. “I am to wed the jotun prince.” 

“Yes.” He breathed, keeping the relief from his tone. “I trust I do not have to discuss such things as duty to you, Hodr.” 

He shook his head. “No, Father. I understand duty. Tyr always calls it the thing we must do to continue doing the things we want to do. By arranging this marriage, wounds can be healed. While we cannot hope to rid the scars left behind, Nine Realms united have a stronger chance of surviving threats from the outside than Nine Realms divided.” 

“Yes.” He smiled. “You understand my plan perfectly.” He stood up and so did his son. “I will send a servant to bring you what you need to tend to... your pet.” 

“Thank you, Father.” He smiled.

“Good boy.” He nodded and left the room, feeling relieved. One less thing for him to worry about. Now all he had to fear was his two remaining sons causing havoc when they learned what he had done. He stepped out onto a balcony, smiling at the sight that greeted him. Thor and Baldr sparing together against two warriors he didn't recognize. All was well this afternoon in his house.

**

Loki was awoken by the sound of something heavy being set down in his room. He sat up in his nest, rubbing his eyes, yawning. It was too early for his six-month supply of yarn, any compounds he would be expected to prepare wouldn't be delivered so early, and his name-day was two months away. He wrapped a fur around his shoulders, stuffed his feet into his moccasins and pulled back the curtain that separated his sleeping area from the rest of the room. “What on Midgard?” 

Six trunks, all of them long enough for him to lie down in and tall enough to be even with his elbow, were lined up along one wall of his room. The servant who placed the final one in place noticed him and gave a bow.

“Good morning, your grace.” she smiled. “Your breakfast will be here shortly.”

“Thank you.” He shook his head. “What are those...” He pointed at the trunks with a sweeping gesture, “doing here?”

“They are for your tourasseu.” Sire's voice came from the door and he turned. “It is time you began to prepare it.” 

He gaped at Laufey. “My _what?_ ” 

“Your tourasseu, Loki. All Asgardian brides have one.” He came into the room. “I know you have been studying the culture of your future home, certainly you have heard the term.” 

Loki felt insulted. “I did... this is...” He fell back on his default mood when handling this whole situation, which was to become humble. “I did not think I would need one so... large.” He was already planning on enchanting one of the trunks to hold all of his books; no way was he leaving his library behind. Whatever prince he was marrying would probably thank him for bringing along something to keep himself occupied.

“For someone of your status, this would be considered small. Do not concern yourself too much with clothes, as fashion here and on Asgard are vastly different.” Laufey had the decency to flush slightly. “I trust I do not need to explain the sort of things you _do_ need to prepare?” 

“No, sir.” He answered, dutifully. “Thank you.” At that exact moment, a terrified yowling came from one of the trunks and Loki dropped his fur as he hurried over to lift the lid. “And this?” He drew a small snow-leopard cub out of it. “What is this?”

“That is...” Sire frowned. “That is a runt.” 

Loki took the animal in his arms, managing a smile. “Asgardian brides are also given cats.”

Sire shook his head. “I will send up some things for the creature. You can use the pet as practice for when you have a baby.” With that he strode from the room, not saying anything else. 

He groaned and shook his head, lifting the cub by the scruff of her neck, giving her a hard look that was not in his eyes. “Welcome to the tower, Jora.” He sighed and pulled her into a hug, rubbing the area he had been holding. “Wish you had come sooner.” He had a feeling that a companion was going to make his last two centuries much easier than all the rest combined. 

*  
Hodr lay sprawled across his bed, half-awake, half asleep. He was aware of his leopard, whom he'd named Elsa, lying over his left leg. He could hear the cat purring, and the scent of lilacs drifting in from the window, and then, he tumbled into a dream. Such things weren't strange for him; they were always a riot of sounds and scents, and even to some extent, feeling as well. How many times had he tumbled over furniture and felt other things striking him, lashing out at curtains and trees, and he always woke up, breathless and tangled in his bedclothes.

The first thing he heard was the swish and creak of a loom; not one of mother's, a stranger was weaving. He crouched down and put out his hand, expecting to find a railing, or another piece of furniture, but instead, his fingers brushed fur, it was a large pelt of some kind and then, icy cold stone. Surprised, he jerked his hand back and gasped in alarm.

_Slam._

Something fell.

“Who's there?” A voice called. “Jora, was that you?” 

There was a mewing sound and Hodr felt the fur brush past him. He swallowed and found his voice. “Elsa?” He swept the cat into his arms.

“What are you doing here?” The voice had to belong to a young man, perhaps close to his age. “How...” He suddenly laughed and fell to a sit. “I'm dreaming.”

“How... both of us?” He swallowed. “Are you certain?”

“Of course.” He chuckled. “I don't have any yellow yarn.” 

“What is yellow?” Hodr winced, and then he heard another cat start purring.

“What do you mean, what is yellow?” He made a noise of disbelief. “You're an Æsir. You're from the _golden_ realm. How can you _not_ know what yellow is?” 

“I uh...” He took a breath. “I'm blind.”

“Blind?” The youth was suddenly close to him. “Are you... Hodr Odinson?” 

“You know who I am?” He nearly lost his grip on Elsa. “Who...” 

“My name is Loki Laufeyson.” He stiffened. “I don't....” 

“I didn't know your name.” He answered. “You're certain we're both dreaming?”

“Like I told you, Hodr. I do not have any yellow yarn.” He took a breath. “I am sorry that you are blind.” 

“I am used to it.” He let out a breath. “I take it we are where you are.”

“Yes.” There was a pause and then he felt a hand brush close to his, the one that was on Elsa. “Familiars.” He paused, “That's how this is happening. I believe the leopard cubs are siblings that were separated, somehow.” 

“My Father told me my cat is from the mountain area of Asgard.” He hoped he didn't sound arrogant – this was his first meeting with Loki, strange as it was, and he didn't want to give a false impression. “Where did you get yours?”

“She was an accidental stowaway in an empty trunk.” He chuckled. “Or maybe they're not siblings at all, and it's just sheer coincidence. Whatever it is, does it really matter?”

Hodr let out a chuckle. “I suppose not.” He leaned back, expecting to find a wall, but instead, tumbled head over heels, down – down – and then...

“Brother!” Thor was right above him, shaking his shoulders.

He groaned. “What is it?” He rubbed his face, groggy and disoriented.

“You were... laughing. It – you did not sound like yourself.” He coughed. “It's nearly time for dinner.”

He chuckled and then heard Elsa mewl and then the weight of her left his leg. He sniffed, frowning. “You smell like a barn, Thor.” 

“You should smell your twin.” He chuckled. “I will see you at dinner.”

Hodr sat up, rubbing his face. “Just make sure I can't smell you.” 

Thor laughed again and then he heard his elder brother's footsteps retreat, and then the door to his chambers opened and closed. 

“Well, Elsa, that was a nice nap, was it not?” He leaned over and brushed his fingers over the cat's head. As he did, he heard Loki's voice, a whisper against his ear.

_“One day, I will teach you all the colors in the Nine Realms.”_


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Preparations for a wedding. Odin's not exactly on top of things when it comes to telling his family things.

The first indication that there was something happening on Asgard was the cleaning of one of the larger bedchambers in the palace. There were dozens upon dozens of rooms in the royal residence, but Baldr knew that the cleaning and redecorating of one of the double rooms was a sign of something significant was going to take place. He'd gone into the room once, while the builders were away and found it to have two large dressing rooms, two studies, both of which were lined with floor to ceiling bookshelves, one large bathing chamber, a main room, and a large bed in the rear; this was clearly going to belong to a married couple. As Tyr and Ilika already had a chamber of their own, it couldn't be for them. When he came back to check the room this morning, the windows were covered with heavy burgundy drapes and the walls were covered with tapestries, several of which he recognized from Hodr's chambers. 

The fact that his brother was getting married and no one had informed him was causing strain as he sat down at his place at the family dining table, knowing full well that Father would have to bring the subject up tonight. Or he'd be doing it. When he glanced across the table at his twin, he instantly knew that from his calm expression, Hodr already knew what was going on – and most likely had for some time. Who in the Nine could his brother be marrying? It couldn't be any ladies of the court, half of them couldn't keep their mouths shut if they so much as shared a glance with an Odinson. There hadn't been any ambassadors from any of the other realms lately. He could remember a few of Asgard's ambassadors leaving several weeks ago, only to return two days after they left, but other than that, nothing. In fact, it had been after their return that work on that double chamber had begun. 

But still, Hodr getting married? Soon? And before Thor! Or him! This was unacceptable. His brother certainly couldn't be in love with someone, he would have told him if he was. Not to mention that love was a luxury not granted to people of their position. He knew that Tyr and his sister in law were learning to love each other, but they hadn't been mad for each other, not like those lovers in those silly ballads and sagas.

“Baldr, quit chewing your lip.” Hodr remarked, quite calmly as the door opened and Thor hurried to his seat, his hair still damp from his shower.

“I hate when you do that.” He replied, shaking his head. 

“Apologies.” Thor offered, looking bashful. “I lost track of time.” 

“What is important is that you are here.” Father stated from the end of the table, looking over a document. “Now we can begin the meal.” 

Baldr glanced at Mother, who had an expression similar to Hodr's, and he felt himself tense. Mother was in on this too! Of course she was, Father couldn't keep a thing from Mother and expect her to approve of it. He barely registered her ringing the small bell next to her place and then the arrival of footmen, setting bowls of soup – that spiced shrimp kind that always showed up on the table near the end of summer. It was good to see _some_ things were consistent. After loaves of fresh-baked bread, still warm from the ovens, were added to the table, the footmen retreated, leaving the family alone.

“Tyr,” Thor finally broke the silence, “Is Ilika unwell? I thought she was joining us this evening.”

His eldest brother cleared his throat. “She is tired. Eir has assured us that once her first trimester is over, that should be done with. We decided it was better if she stayed in our chambers and rested, rather than join us for a meal and risk taking a snooze in her salad plate.” 

Baldr nearly dropped his spoon. His sister in law was _pregnant_? Where was he when this was announced? Had Father announced Hodr's impending wedding and he'd not heard that too?

Thor frowned. “That reminds me, Hodr, could you please remind that overgrown lap-cat of yours to stay away from the goat-pen?”

Hodr nodded. “I'm sorry, brother – I'll do my best, but with all the going-ons lately, she's become quite the escape artist. I'm surprised she doesn't listen to you.” He paused. “You can resort to bribery, that usually works where Elsa is involved.”

Tyr chuckled. “Just give her whatever it is you're currently eating and she'll leave you be, or promise her a treat.” 

“That leopard is ridiculous.” Baldr interjected. “So's this wedding.” He instantly went red and wished he could crawl under the table.

“What wedding?” Thor queried. “Who's getting married?”

Hodr set down his spoon and covered his face. 

“Silence!” Father barked, his face slightly pink. “This was not your subject to advance, Baldr.” 

He flushed with embarrassment. “I am sorry, Father.” He answered, properly cowed. 

The Allfather cleared his throat. “The wedding will be in a month's time. The ceremony will not be large, given its proximity to the harvest festival.” He let out a breath. “Hodr will be marrying Prince Loki Laufeyson.”

_“Laufeyson?”_ Thor's eyes widened in shock. _“Laufeyson?”_

“Hodr cannot marry a frost giant!” Baldr rose to his feet, upsetting his soup bowl. “Father, that is unacceptable!” 

“Calm yourselves!” Tyr shouted, looking so much like Mother it was frightening. “I am certain Father has his reasons.” 

“I won't have it!” He shouted and stalked out of the room, slamming the door behind him. He was halfway down the corridor when he realized he'd forgotten to take his twin with him. Well, now he'd have time to plan. He would get Hodr out of Asgard. There couldn't be a wedding without a bridegroom. 

*  
Hodr kept his focus on his food and did not say anything until Father had explained to Tyr and Thor the entirety of the events that had brought his upcoming nuptials about, how he'd chosen him over his brothers, noting that he made it sound like an _honor_ instead of what it really was. Much to his relief, his older brothers reacted far better than his twin had. Thor was doing a good job of hiding his emotions about the news; his brother was all for any reason to celebrate and quite honestly, was glad to be spared having to get married before he was ready. Tyr saw the political side, but had a reaction similar to the one Mother had; they should have been informed sooner.

Mother, for her part, remained as quiet as Hodr did, and he imagined that she kept looking over at Baldr's empty chair, shaking her head. 

“I just cannot believe you did not tell us sooner, Father.” Tyr's voice brought Hodr back into the room. “Considering what this means for Asgard and Jotunheim.” 

“I will admit that I have been remiss in that duty, but judging from your brother's reaction, I was right in doing so.” Father's stated confidently. “That is one of the reasons this is being kept a small affair. Most people on Asgard will, no doubt, have a similar reaction to his.” 

“What is this Loki like?” Thor asked, “I thought that King Laufey only had two sons.” He paused. “Is he similar in size to Grandmother Bestla?” 

“Yes.” Father answered, thankfully sparing Hodr from speaking. He didn't want any of them to know that he and his betrothed had been talking in dreams for years already, not often, once a season, no more. But each conversation was seared on his heart, already making him long for the next one. “It is fortunate that the seasons of Jotunheim and Asgard are the same.” 

“Why?” Tyr interjected.

“Jotun hibernate during the winter.” Hodr intoned. “Rather like bears.” 

Mother let out a delicate snicker. “Well, I suppose that explains why I find it so difficult to get all of you out of bed during that time of the year.” 

“This Loki will not hibernate on Asgard, will he?” Hodr could hear the frown in Thor's voice. “I imagine that the weather here is far milder.” 

“It is.” Father replied. “What passes for winter here is spring to the jotun. The temperatures there during winter are consistently seventy degrees below freezing.”

The conversation shifted from Loki to the weather of the rest of the Nine Realms, and Hodr fell quiet, his attention back onto his food. Once again, he or something that solely concerned him, had been quietly forgotten, as if he were part of the background, and it had no matter. He had grown up more or less hidden from view from the people of Asgard; all for the fact that he could not see. That while his eyes, which he had been told were as blue as the summer sky, the same shade as Thor's, so he was informed, were perfect looking, clear and bright; it was all for naught. His world was one of dark; all he knew was blackness. His magic, however, more than made up for his lack of sight. He might not be able to do battle with the blade and axe, nor could he wield spear or bow – he had no need. All the power he had was right at his fingertips, from fire to illusion, his mind and hands were all the weapons he needed. 

But even being powerful in magic would not endear him to the people of Asgard, he was nothing more than Baldr's twin. Tyr and Thor's brother. Relegated to the shadows of his golden brothers. 

He had to wonder how Loki felt, coming here from Jotunheim, to be married off to a prince few people knew and even less talked about. He smiled faintly, remembering how Loki told him he looked – hair the color of honey and eyes the color of a glacier's heart – but warmer than a thousand suns. Hodr was looking forward to 'seeing' his spouse's face with his fingers. 

**  
Loki deftly drew his needle through the hem of the fine linen shirt, hoping that his dreams had given him an accurate gauge of Hodr's size. He was broader than he in the shoulders, but not much. Their height was similar, and the Asgardian's varied diet and something else had given him a slightly sturdier build. His guess was plenty of fresh air, exercise and sunshine. He cut the thread and then held up his work. He had heard that on Asgard, wives made shirts for their husbands. As he was the one who for all intents and purposes, would be the wife in the marriage, he felt it was his duty to bring a few shirts for his future spouse. 

It was hard to know what Asgard thought of the jotun as a whole; everyone knew that the late queen, Bestla, had been from Jotunheim; another runt like himself – certainly no one of the court had ever insulted the wife of King Bor so openly or even indirectly. Being gaped at wouldn't be so bad, would it? Or perhaps in Asgard they would shuffle him out of sight, the same as they did here. That would be familiar and yet...

Loki lowered the shirt and sighed. To change the location but not the situation – well, it's not as if anyone here would miss him. He carefully folded the garment and added it to one of his tourasseu trunks, then carefully packed his sewing equipment back into its container before setting it into another trunk. Nearly all six of them were full, the one that remained open would hold the things that he still needed until he left for Asgard. During these past few decades, he had woven countless things, most of which seemed utterly pointless; mostly he had woven great swaths of fabric that he had turned into shirts for Hodr, bed linens, and nightclothes. Three weeks ago, a pair of ambassadors and a seamstress from Asgard had shown up here in the palace, and he'd been measured for his Æsir wardrobe. It would be waiting for him when he arrived, and he wouldn't even see it until then. 

Jora looked up from her spot near the door, letting out a yawn before curling back up and falling asleep. 

“You overgrown house-cat.” He gave the leopard a sharp look. “I just hope they don't shave you when we get to our new home.” He went into his sleeping area and walked around to the mirror, frowning at his reflection. He was short and hornless, as were all jotun of his stature. He turned from side to side, wondering what the Æsir prince would think of him. There was precious little information about Prince Hodr, in fact, it was almost as if the man didn't exist. Even the ambassadors and the seamstress could tell him little. In their dream-talk, he and his betrothed had plenty to talk about; books, seidr, the possessiveness of brothers – they had long maintained to keep a 'distance' so to speak, so that people would not be suspicious when they finally met, which was supposed to be for the 'first' time. Well, in a way it was – until Hodr was able to trace his features with his fingers – he had no idea what he looked like – Loki felt this gave himself an unfair advantage over the Asgardian and had said so; Hodr replied that he didn't mind. 

He went over to his vanity and focused on the book spread open on the smooth rock as he undid his braids, letting the heavy mass of hair fall down his back. The only one who had seen him with his hair completely undone lately was his dam, it was improper for him to go around with it loose and flowing. One of the bridal traditions of his people was that on their wedding night, he was to undo his hair in front of his husband after removing his wedding garment; letting his spouse see him as nature would; bare and unbound. It was an odd form of surrender, appearing vulnerable and showing the bridegroom what was now solely for him to see. No married dual sexed or female jotun ever allowed themselves to be seen in such a manner by anyone other than themselves or their husband after. 

With Hodr being blind, he wasn't certain how to explain the process to him; or even if he would be able to do it. Well, he'd find a way to fit the custom in somehow.

Thank the Norns that neither the jotun nor the Æsir used the Vanir tradition of having witnesses on the wedding night. Their method was similar, he and Hodr would spend the night together, and in the morning, they were expected to present the bedclothes to the designated party (he had a feeling this was the Allfather, Allmother and some other collection of Æsir officials) and declare themselves married. That had been worrying him as of late; he knew that he would bleed the first time he was bedded, but what if it wasn't enough? Was there a certain amount of blood that was expected? No one told him these things. He ran the brush through his hair, wondering what his future husband thought of such a task. He hadn't had the gumption to ask Hodr. 

He'd been properly horrified on the morning when he'd had to bring his sheets to his dam and state that he'd begun to have his time, it only emphasized the fact that unlike his brothers, there was very little masculinity about him. They might call him a he, but it was – well, it had been humiliating. The date of the wedding was even chosen with the prospect of his husband getting him with child on their first night together. How – he sighed and set down his brush. 

He and Hodr agreed that the pair of them becoming parents when he was barely of age would be a terrible idea. Loki was of the opinion that the change in climate would throw off his body's natural rhythm and they wouldn't have to worry about a baby for a few months; and by the time he adjusted to the seasons of Asgard, any notion of him having a child could be forgotten for a while. Norns knew, if they were going to be ignored as much as they were now, they would be left in peace for decades before someone even brought up the subject and by then, they might already have two children.

Then again, it was never about the two of them having a baby, the two of them being happy, or anything else that had to do with them – this marriage was supposed to be for the good of the realms, and everything having to do with he and Hodr's lives was secondary. Loki understood that this marriage was a duty he had been given. The Casket would be given back to Jotunheim and they would have lost little in the grand scheme of things. 

“What am I doing?” He laughed and set his brush down, shaking his mass of hair behind his shoulders and headed upstairs to make sure he had not overlooked anything in his library and to check for stray pins around his loom. There was a small skip to his steps; in less than a week, he and Hodr would finally be together. He would be out of this tower and in a sense, free.

*

Hodr could not believe how the last month flew by. With the flurry of activity, from fittings to arrangements, it seemed as if only three days had gone by since Father announced the wedding at dinner to this morning; tonight, Loki would be arriving from Jotunheim. The wedding was tomorrow. His heart was fluttering with the sheer idea that tonight, while they wouldn't be together, he and Loki would be sleeping under the same stars, on the same realm. He would have to remind himself again, not to instantly hug the jotun prince when he arrived at the Bifrost tonight; it would be improper, not to mention, highly suspicious. He had a feeling that Mother knew about the dreams; or at least, guessed at it. 

His good mood was shattered when the door to his room was flung open and then slammed shut. “This is insane.” Baldr huffed and fell heavily into the chair across from him. “How can you be so calm? You're being wed to a _monster.”_

Hodr shook his head. “Brother, you're making this far more complicated than it is. You are acting as if I am the one who is leaving, not the one waiting.” He smirked. “And stop chewing your lip.”

“I hate it when you do that!” His twin spat. “Honestly, why, of all people...”

“Baldr, this was something that was decided years ago, when we were children. You know full well that whom we marry has never been in our hands.” He blinked sightlessly at him. “I did not see you raise a fit when Tyr was betrothed to Princess Ilika of Alfheim.”

“That's different!” His brother's voice took on a familiar tone. “It's not the same.”

Hodr let out a breath. “Baldr, why are you so disposed to assume that just because Prince Loki is from Jotunheim he is automatically a monster? Certainly you don't think all Midgardians are stupid.” 

“They... that's different!” He retorted and Hodr smiled, knowing that his brother's temper was starting to get the better of him. “They are... and...” 

“I am to be wed tomorrow, brother. In case you haven't noticed, the plans for the ceremony are taking place even as we speak. It will not be the grand event that will occur when you wed, or when Thor weds.” He straightened his shoulders and gave his twin a fixed look; the one that he knew always made Baldr squirm. “This marriage is my _duty_. I have not been afforded many opportunities to serve our realm, but if this union can help solidify the peace between us and Jotunheim, then who am I to object? It is for the _realms_ that this wedding is taking place.” 

“Hodr.” Baldr nearly whined. 

“I have things to do, brother. If you want to moan and groan about my impending nuptials, why don't you run off and complain to Thor? He may not object to the wedding, but the lack of the usual entertainments at such feasts has him in a disgruntled state.” He hated it when his brother behaved like this. Quite honestly, he was touched that Thor was being indignant on his behalf; his brother viewed the lack of grandness as an insult to his baby brother. 

“ _Thor_ doesn't understand.” Baldr stood up and he huffed. “I may not be able to prevent this wedding, but I do not approve of this union. I will do my duty as is expected of me, but I promise you this, little brother; you and that jotun will not be happy together. I will be there for you when your heart is broken and that monster has escaped to wherever _things_ like him go.” 

Hodr remained in his chair as his twin stalked out of his chambers and stayed silent until the door shut with a bang behind him. “He will not break my heart, brother. He is my heart.” He rose from his chair and made his way over to his study, glad that Baldr had not upset any furniture when he came in here. He would need to get used to a new room, but that wasn't going to be a problem. Most of his books were gone and he ran his fingers along the desk, wondering how he was going to make it through the rest of the day until he went down to the Bifrost with his parents to meet Loki. 

Elsa brushed against his legs, purring. 

“Oh, are you looking forward to finally having a friend?” He crouched down and rubbed her behind the ears, pressing his face into her soft fur. “I know, I am your friend, but you want a friend of your own, someone who speaks your language better than I.” He let out a breath. “You two better behave yourself for Tyr and Ilika. No shredding any rugs.” 

The leopard made an indignant sound.

“Oh, I know, you're the best behaved cat in Asgard, but I know what happens when girls get together.” He pulled away and smiled. “I suspect you'll eat a stag each, and then polish off a pair of boars for dessert.” He laughed as she licked his cheek. “What, do I need a bath?” He grinned. “I have a feeling I'll be getting enough of those over the next few days.” He rose to his feet and went to check his shelves, just to make sure everything he wanted in his and Loki's chambers had already been packed; the rest of his belongings could be moved later.

**

Loki kept his face perfectly calm as he and Jora walked through the halls of the palace in Utgard for the last time. His trunks had preceded him and were already waiting at the Bifrost site. He wasn't even certain what sort of look he should be wearing at this point. A smile would be too much; he needed to be dignified, but at the same time, he couldn't show any true sorrow either. He was leaving the only home he had ever known, headed off to a new realm, a new people; and whatever happened to him after his sire had the Casket, it didn't matter to Jotunheim. They did not care. 

What a sight he must be; an undersized jotun, dressed in a tunic that was on the border between green and white that reached his ankles, embroidered with darker green lines, that mirrored the ones on his skin. Over that, he wore a brocade jacket, the same color as the embroidery, it was worked with silver colored thread. Platinum and emeralds were worked into his braids, with bangles of silver and platinum around his wrists. He felt ridiculous like this; dressed up and presented to Asgard as bride for prince, when really, it would be like an Asgardian showing up in head-to-toe gold. Well, he doubted any of the Æsir nobility would go out in public in homespun. 

He stopped as he saw Sire and Dam waiting for him near the doors. There was an odd look in their faces; one he hadn't seen in centuries. Sorrow. Were they sad he was leaving? Three hundred years ago, they had detached themselves from him, to lessen the pain when this day finally came. 

“Loki.” Dam brushed his cheek with her finger, her eyes full of unshed tears. “So grown up.” 

“Araja.” Sire's voice almost cracked. “We agreed.”

She nodded and pulled away, though Loki had the feeling she wanted to gather him in her arms and carry him away from here, deeper into the palace, much as she had on that bitter night that was the start of everything that led them to this moment. “Good-bye, my little miracle.” 

He nodded. “Good-bye... Mother.” He swallowed and looked over at Laufey, who was grim faced as ever. “I will make you proud.” 

“You already have.” Was Sire's response, and he could detect no lie in those words. With that, his parents retreated, leaving him alone. 

The front doors of the palace were opened and a loud roar filled his ears. 

He nearly tripped over the hem of his tunic, hardly believing what was without. The people of Utgard, the people whom he had barely seen, those who had scarcely seen him, were lining the streets, it appeared as if they were standing from here all the way down to the Bifrost site. 

“I don't believe this.” He shook his head to clear it, let the leash he was holding go slightly lax so Jora could trot at his side, and, with his chin high, he walked solemnly out into the courtyard, uncertain how he was supposed to react to the populace. 

“Norns bless you, Prince Loki!” Someone shouted, and the cry was echoed down the line. The words reverberated off the houses and soon, it became an endless echo, with other phrases adding to the mixture, until it was a cacophony of anthems and wishes. 

Directed at _him._

For the first time, he was not being ignored, he was not in the shadows, he was finally being seeing by Jotunheim; on his last day in the realm where he was born.

He felt his heart lurch in his chest and he kept moving forward, willing himself not to cry. These people most likely thought he was going to his death. It was more like moving from one tower to another, only now he would not be alone. He pulled a small smile and gave slight nods to various people; he did not recognize a single face in the crowd, and then from some upstairs window, children started throwing frost-violets. The tiny purple flowers fluttered down around him, catching in his hair, in the folds of his cloak, and some stuck to Jora's fur.

Loki refused to show any strong emotion; it would not be proper.

Was this planned? Was this spontaneous? Did it really matter? No, it might have been planned, but the jotun didn't give off this much emotion falsely; the feelings were genuine. This was the sort of thing that Midgardian fairy-stories were written about. Although in this case, he was a prince who had been hidden in a tower, kept safe and protected. Or imprisoned, waiting to be saved by someone. He was being sent away, for the good of the realm, so that their greatest treasure could be returned to them. A gem for a gem.

Guards flanked the Bifrost site, where his six trunks stood waiting, and with calm resolve, Loki stepped up between them, turning back to look at the citizens of Utgard, who were still waving, crying – cheering. He took his free hand, held his pinky and middle fingers with his thumb, pressed his ring and index finger to his lips and then raised his arm skyward, the bangles collecting at his elbow. A silent farewell and thank-you to the realm that had reared and raised him.

Bright light enveloped the area where he stood, blinding him from anything not on the platform, and he felt himself surging upwards, to where Asgard awaited.

To where Hodr was waiting.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Countdown to a wedding.

Frigga could remember being livid when Odin had first told her of the arranged marriage. It wasn't that she didn't know that such a thing would happen; it was the fact that her husband was marrying Hodr, her _baby_ , off before Thor. Certainly the second eldest should have been the next in line to get married, not the youngest. She never could understand why Odin couldn't treat their youngest the same as the other three; it wasn't her son's fault that he was blind. He was healthy, handsome and far better behaved; surely there was some sweet, docile princess on Vanaheim who would be better suited to Hodr. However, she knew that her son had been studying jotun culture ever since he'd been informed, most likely long before then, since that day in her weaving room, centuries ago. It was just – it was going to take her a while to accept the idea.

That was before she, along with two of her handmaidens, as well as Odin and Hodr went to the the Bifrost to meet her son's bride, and, as tradition demanded, bring her, or rather him, into her part of the palace until the wedding.

Loki was smaller than other jotun;but he was taller than herself, in fact, she suspected that he was almost even on height with Hodr. He was quiet, demure and well, polite. It was hard to believe was from a race of beings known to be blood-thirsty and vicious. He had barely spoken a word between the Bifrost and the small chamber he was to stay in until the wedding tomorrow afternoon. “Thank you again, for your hospitality, your majesty.” He inclined his head, and she could see the gems woven into the elaborate braids of his hair. 

“It is my pleasure.” She looked around the room, trying to find something to mention to him. “I am certain, however, you would rather not be confined to a room.”

“It is something I am used to, my queen.” He replied, still not looking up. “So I do not mind.” 

Frigga frowned. Had Laufey kept his son locked away? What sort of nonsense were the two kings playing at, presenting something less than what they should? Of course, things were starting to make sense. Odin didn't care if Hodr was married, but he would never marry one of his other sons to a jotun, even one as well mannered and handsome as the one currently standing in front of her. Laufey was most likely doing the same. She let her lips curl into a smile. She hadn't seen the future too clearly when it came to Hodr and his marriage, she never could when she tried to focus on something specific, all she had seen clearly was her son in the gardens, laughing in amusement with someone who had not been visible. “Dinner will arrive shortly, although I do not believe you will feel like eating much.” 

“Anything would be welcome, your majesty.” Loki intoned, and he seemed to be developing a fascination with the floor. 

Enough of that nonsense.

She came over and lifted his chin, so he had to look her in the face. “Soon your meal will be here. Are you hungry?” She arched an eyebrow, giving him her best 'mother' expression and saw the faintest glimmer of amusement in his eyes, his calm demeanor wavering.

“Yes, your majesty, I am hungry. I did not eat before I left Jotunheim.” He wrinkled his nose. “I had to take a bath in milk instead of eating.” 

“Gracious, you must be starved.” She released him, smiling. “Now then, enough of that 'your majesty' nonsense as well. You are marrying my son tomorrow, and while I do not believe you would feel comfortable calling me mother, I insist that you call me by my name.”

Loki cracked a smile. “Yes, your... Frigga.” 

She beamed at him, glad this wasn't going to be as difficult as she feared. “Did your cat eat before you left?”

He nodded. “Yes, Jora ate.” He rolled his eyes, although she had a feeling he hadn't meant to. “Sire is not in favor of pets, but he felt I needed something to practice on, so I would not be clueless when it came to babies. Although if Asgardian infants regularly slay rats and eat them, I am much afraid.” 

She laughed. “No, they do not, have no fear.” 

Loki went over to the small dressing table and started to remove the bangles from his wrists, still looking slightly uncertain. “What time is the ceremony tomorrow?”

“It will begin at four in the afternoon, and it should last an hour.” She came over, hesitantly holding her hand out. “Would you care for some help with your hair?”

He bit at his bottom lip before turning to look at her. “I...” He lifted his chin up. “Not just yet, it is ah, improper for me to be seen with my hair down in the presence of a man whom is not my husband, or a close relation. I should prefer to wait until after any servants have come and gone, if that make sense, your... Frigga.” 

She gave him an understanding smile. “It does.” She tucked a loose strand behind his ear. “You did these braids yourself?”

“Yes.” He took the studs from his ears, setting them down with his other jewelery. “I felt rather overdressed when I arrived here.” 

“Compared to what I have seen some other brides wear, you were perfectly modest.” Frigga turned as there was a knock on the door. “Come in.” 

Two footmen, one of them wheeling a cart, came into the room and promptly began setting up dinner on the table, without saying a word or giving so much as glance to the pair of them. It was a scene the Allmother was familiar with. Servants in the palace seemed to be in a constant competition to see whom could do their job the best and quickest without being noticed. When the silver salvers were lifted, tempting smells wafted through the room and she noticed out of the corner of her eye Loki seemed to be struggling not to go over immediately and investigate the meal. 

Once they were gone, she went over to the table herself and gathered that the staff were keeping things light; no doubt wanting everyone to rest well for tomorrow's events, as well as having an appetite for the feast tomorrow. “Do you like tomato soup, Loki?”

“Tomato?” He blinked at her, confused. “What is a tomato?”

“It's a fruit that has fooled the universe into thinking it's a vegetable.” She replied, laughing. “Come, come, you need to eat. You are not required to clean your plate.” 

He came over to the table, looking the contents over, his expression wary. “What is the tomato soup?”

“Here.” she indicated the bowls covered in puff pastry. “It's underneath.” She paused, rather surprised when he pulled one of the chairs out for her. “Thank you.” She sat.

“You are welcome.” He took his own seat, still looking apprehensive. “It all looks wonderful.” He set a napkin in his lap, waiting for her to take up her spoon before he did. “Forgive me if I feel detached, but it seems as if I have wandered into the middle of a play in which everyone knows their roles and their place except for myself, yet I am one of the main performers.” 

Frigga broke the pastry with her spoon, revealing the creamy red broth. “I understand. Such were things when I arrived on Asgard to be married to the Allfather.” she managed a worn smile. “Although I had at least seen my wedding gown.” 

Loki flushed. “I had not thought to look in the dressing room as of yet.” 

The leopard got up from her seat next to the fire and came to sit over at the table at her master's chair, looking up at him expectantly.

“You little beggar.” He remarked, chuckling. “You had a boar before we left, you're not hungry.” 

In response, the cat ducked her head and looked over at Frigga, tail swishing. She recognized the same behavior from Hodr's own animal.

“That face doesn't work with me.” she kept her focus on the table before taking up a piece of bread and setting it on the floor, nonchalant. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw the jotun grin for a moment before turning his attention to eating. 

*

Hodr's wishes of getting to spend the evening with Loki were dashed when, shortly after his betrothed's arrival, Loki was bundled off to a different part of the palace, leaving him alone for one final night. They couldn't even have dinner together, but they had known each other in dreams for centuries, one more little night should hardly make a difference; except that it did. He hadn't even been able to touch his beloved's hand and welcome him to Asgard, as he would any other guest. But then, Loki wasn't a mere guest. He was much more than that. He fell back across his bed, and a moment later, Elsa was up next to him, purring in his face. “Oh, what is it?” He rubbed the back of his cat's head, grinning. “Wanting some affection again?” 

She laid down in response, and he could feel her tail swishing against his ankle. 

He sighed, already knowing that tomorrow, he would leave this room and was likely never to return to it; he had spent many hours in his and Loki's chambers already, learning the layout of the furniture, the number of steps from bed to bath, from each wall to another, and he had lain on that bed and fantasized of his betrothed, wickedly thinking of their wedding night. Imagining the jotun's short, gasping breaths against his ear and his sharp nails digging into his back as they performed their intimate dance, and when Hodr finally released himself, he had buried his face in a pillow, groaning Loki's name. He turned to his side, feeling himself grow hard from the memory. 

A bell in the city tolled the hour – ten.

Come this time tomorrow, he and Loki would be in that bed, already wedded in words, and they would perform the act that would truly marry them. There would be only mild awkwardness, as they would not come to their marital bed as complete strangers, having talked in dreams for two centuries. Loki, who knew his face and his voice, the two of them would know each other completely. His curiosity would be fulfilled, and he would learn the structure of his beloved's face, the warmth that could be found in his arms and curves, and the restrained desire between them could be unleashed, until, exhausted, the would collapse as one into sleep, perhaps still joined, leaving no doubt to anyone that that they were husband and wife.

The rest of Asgard would still be feasting, toasting in their honor, the ale going to men's heads and quite honestly, the idea of the crude jokes he knew would be called out made him grimace. He flinched and pulled his pillow towards him, his mind shifting to something less unsavory. As much as he desired Loki, a feeling he was assured was mutual, the idea that once they were done, once they were spent, they would sleep next to one another. They would still be touching – wrapped in each other's arms in comfort and bliss. Their breath melding together in sleep the way their bodies did in wake. The idea of not being alone was a thousand times more appealing to Hodr than any carnal dreams he'd had. 

There was a knock on the door and a moment later, a heavy footstep. “Hodr? Are you awake?”

“Yes, Thor.” He sighed and sat up, rubbing his face. “What is it?” He sensed that his brother was in the doorway to his sleeping chambers.

“I must confess this now, for I dare not speak it tomorrow. I am jealous.” His brother said in a rush. “I believe Father might think he is insulting Laufey by offering you, but it does not change the fact that I am mad.” 

Hodr blinked. “What on Midgard do you have to be jealous of, Thor? You are not even attracted to men, so why should this matter?”

“That was before I saw your...” He paused. “I do not know if I should call Loki your bride or your husband.” 

He smiled faintly. “Husband, Thor. I believe the term _bride_ is exclusively mine where Loki is concerned.” He shook his head. “Why are you telling me this?”

“Because...” He cleared his throat. “Forgive me brother, but you have not... you have not seen Loki.” 

“You have a weakness for pretty things, brother. It's going to get you into trouble some day.” He chuckled. “It will pass.” 

Thor made a nervous sound. “I know, I just... well, it is better for me to come and declare that I find your betrothed to be a remarkable beauty, enough to pierce my heart with jealously now, before the two of you are wed, then to remain silent on the matter forever.”

“Then perhaps you best start courting Lady Sif before you have to make a similar confession to her intended.” He remarked, rubbing Elsa's head. “I'm certain that would be a thousand times worse than this.” He grinned. “And calm down, Sif is not getting married.”

“Do not jest!” His brother spluttered. “I just...” He came over to the bed and sat. “Loki looks nothing like a monster. Nothing like the tales say of the jotun... he... well, I thought he would, but instead...” 

“Does he remind you of something else?” Hodr asked, turning to gaze sightlessly at his elder brother. “or someone?”

“He is beautiful, brother. Delicate and yet... unbreakable.” He cleared his throat. “I should not be so bold.”

“You cannot help being bold, Thor. Subtlety would never suit you.” He clamped his brother's arm. “And where is Baldr? I should suspect he will be here shortly, trying to convince me to run away from Asgard under the cover of night.” 

He chuckled in response. “Mother is ahead of you on that regard. She knew he would make an attempt, so she took matters into her own hands, so to speak.”

Hodr snorted. “Mother sent a sleeping draft disguised as mead with his dinner, didn't she?” 

Thor sighed. “You think he would have learned, at his age. How often did she do something similar with medicines we refused to take, or to ensure we stayed in bed until the healers would allow us to rise?”

“Baldr continually forgets how clever Mother is.” He covered a yawn. “Speaking of sleep, it is something we both best get. Tomorrow will be a long, busy day.” 

“True.” There was a shift in weight as Thor stood. “Here.” He dropped something into his palm, it was small, and soft, and when he inhaled the scent of it, Hodr found it had a gentle smell, rather like spring rain.

“What is this?” He frowned, gently touching the petals. “A flower?”

“It was in Loki's hair when he arrived, well, there were several, this is the one that fell from it and became caught on my cloak.” He could hear Thor's embarrassment. “I will not act on these feelings, brother, and it is most likely a passing fancy, but if your husband's heart is as beautiful as his face, then every man in all the Realms should go mad with jealousy.” 

Hodr shook his head. “You read too many fictions, Thor. Such things do not happen outside of fairy tales and Midgardian novels.” He smiled. “Good night, brother.” 

“Good night, Hodr. I will see you at luncheon.” He coughed. “I suspect Baldr will be in a foul mood.” 

“Baldr would be in a foul mood if I was marrying Princess Sigyn of Vanaheim.” He chuckled, remembering the girl who had a voice like a bell and was known for teaching orphans to read, causing quite the scandal among nobles. “Do not tell our sister-in-law, but I always felt she and Tyr would have been a good match.”

“Now who reads too many stories? They would be as complacent as Charles and Jane Bingley.” There was an odd strangled sound from his brother. “Do not tell Mother that I borrowed that book. I was... merely curious.” 

“Mother most likely already knows.” He shook his head, wondering why Thor didn't want Mother knowing he had read _Pride and Prejudice,_ when really, it was their brothers he ought not to be telling. He heard the door of his room open and close and then he fell back on the bed, sighing. “Well, Elsa, guess we should follow our own advice.” 

The leopard let out a yawn and he felt her brush past him as she jumped down from the bed, heading for her spot on the floor. 

“And good night to you.” He leaned over, lifted the chimney from the lamp and blew out the flame, before replacing it and sprawling backwards over his bed, the rich scent of smoked meats for tomorrow's feast already drifting in through the open window.

*

Luncheon was a silent affair and Tyr honestly hoped it wasn't a precursor to how all family meals would be for a while. If Baldr was capable, the entire table would be set aflame with the look he was giving it. When he'd first heard about the arranged marriage, he wasn't surprised that his youngest brother was marrying a jotun prince, it was that Father had waited so long to inform them of the event. He had been with his brothers when Loki arrived at the palace and he was of the opinion that it had been a damn good thing that he and Thor had put Baldr between them, rather than standing in order by their age; because the look in his brother's eye was something that boded ill.

The sound of a knife scraping on the plate caused him to look up, and he saw Baldr setting his cutlery down. “How can anyone eat?”

“You seem to be capable.” Tyr remarked, keeping his attention on his own food. 

“This is a wedding, Baldr, not a funeral.” Hodr offered. “Although you seem to be thinking otherwise.” 

“Boys!” Mother admonished. “Do not start. This is a happy day, we do not need Eir patching you up before the ceremony, or after, for that matter.” 

Ilika cleared her throat. “I believe Baldr is right in the regards to eating, but I am in disagreement on the reason.”

“We need something to keep our stomachs from rumbling at the wedding.” Thor offered, chuckling. “It could cause a scandal.” 

Hodr snorted. “Particularly yours, someone might mistake the noise for a bear.” 

There was a soft chuckle around the table, and Tyr saw a ghost of a smile on Baldr's face. 

“Dinner will be easier.” Father stated, “I suspect nerves are running high.” 

“What's there to be nervous about? We're just letting Hodr marry a mons.... ow!” Baldr shouted as Thor clearly kicked him under the table. “What was that for?”

“Loki is not a monster. We've had this discussion before. Grandmother was of Jotunheim and she was not monster.” Tyr snapped. “Honestly, Baldr, are you a child, because you seem to be content to act like one.” 

“Enough of this.” Mother snapped. “Baldr, if you cannot be civil, then remain silent.” 

“There will be dancing after dinner, won't there?” Ilika's voice was calm, and Tyr recognized the tactic his wife was using; the same diversion she used at her own family dinners when the mood grew tense.

“Of course, there will be dancing.” Mother's voice changed to a lighter tone. “I take it you are feeling better?”

“Much.” She set a hand on her stomach. “I just need to avoid overly-sweet things, it seems.” 

“That is good to hear.” She looked hard at him. “Tyr, make sure your wife does not strain herself tonight.”

He smiled in response. “I will be most diligent, Mother.” 

“Oh, this is making me ill.” Baldr groaned. “Sentiment.”

“What's wrong with that?” Hodr asked, blinking. “I find it endearing.” 

“That's because you lack common sense.” He retorted. 

“And you lack romance.” Thor interjected. “Perhaps you need to read more.” 

“I have more important things to do than read silly nonsense.” He snapped, before shoving a large piece of meat into his mouth.

“Manners.” Hodr stated, grinning. 

“I have to know how you do that, brother.” Tyr shook his head. “It's driven me mad trying to figure it out.”

“Practice.” He answered as Baldr gulped down some water. 

*

Loki remained perfectly still as the handmaidens buttoned him into the gown he was wearing. He wasn't insulted that he was wearing a dress. It was tightly fitted against him, similar to the tunics he was used to wearing on Jotunheim, although the hemline flared out at his thighs, rather than his waist, allowing him more movement than seemed possible. The bodice was fitted against his chest, no doubt the designer of this gown had originally intended it for a maiden with a small bosom, which explained why the entire dress was covered in lace. He had examined the skirt last night and found that there was a pattern of tiny, delicate flowers he could not place. The bolero that went over the top of the dress matched it, and quite honestly, it was the most elaborate garment he had ever worn. 

It was also a brilliant shade of white. The exact color of fresh snow; and he was glad he was spared a veil. 

The handmaidens had already braided his hair, working strands of platinum and diamonds into the elaborate coiffure, part of it twisted in a crown around his head, the rest in a braided bun at the base of his neck. They had then set white roses into the braid around his head, and he was thankful that their scent wasn't overpowering, like so many of the flowers of Asgard. Two diamond studs, worked in the shape of flowers that matched the lace, were set in his ears. 

“Nervous?” The Allmother appeared in the mirror, standing behind him. She was wearing a gown of green and silver. 

“Shouldn't I be?” He gave her a smile. “If I said I was calm and collected, you'd know something was wrong.”

She laughed and came closer to him, shooing the maids away. “I'm certain you didn't plan on being thus attired for your wedding.” 

He smirked. “I have read that there are some cultures in the universe where everyone goes to the wedding without clothes.” He shook his head. “Even Midgardians have more sense than that.” 

Frigga blushed slightly. “I have no doubt that with all their cultures, there are those among them that have a similar custom.” 

“It does explain why they seem to be constantly at odds with each other. A thousand different ways of doing the same thing, and all convinced theirs is the best way.” He smoothed out the skirt, his nerves calming slightly. “It is a beautiful gown, and I am most grateful for your generosity.” 

“You are most welcome, Loki Laufeyson.” She smiled and he turned to face her. “Are you ready?”

“I am.” He straightened his shoulders, doing his best to look more assured than he felt. Why was he so nervous? He knew Hodr, it wasn't as if they were completely ignorant of each other, but at the same time; he was a stranger. There had only been the fleeting glance yesterday and they had not dream-talked in weeks. Another attempt on their part to not let others know that they had been communicating for years. He folded his hands in front of him. “I imagine you have somewhere to be before I arrive at the great hall.”

Frigga touched his cheek, her expression unreadable. “Yes. Oh, before I forget, is there anything Tyr and his wife should know about Jora before she's handed over to be watched for the next week?”

He shook his head, remembering how grumpy the leopard had been to be taken from the chamber this morning. “Only that if she brings either of them a dead rodent, it's highly likely she's killed and hidden another one somewhere in the room. I do not believe she's grasped that the change in climate will mean that her spare snacks will not keep as long.” 

She chuckled and drew back. “I will see you shortly.” Frigga turned and left the room, leaving Loki alone.

For a moment, he stood in front of the mirror, looking himself over. His heart fluttered in his chest, an only passing sadness that Hodr could not see him; it had never mattered to him much that his betrothed was blind; but still, it would be nice for him to know. He was dressed up like this for his husband, after all. He lifted his chin, smiling. This was not going to be the nightmare he feared so long ago. He was certain of it. 

Turning, he went to the door, pausing at the table next to it to draw the large bouquet of white and purple flowers from a vase that was keeping the blooms fresh. He stepped back from the door as a servant opened it, his head bowed. Nodding a thanks, he stepped into the corridor and began the walk towards the great hall, his slippered feet silent on the marble. Loki was well aware of the guards who followed behind him both for his protection, and quite possibly, to make sure he didn't run. 

Even though he knew it took a full twenty-minutes to walk the distance from where he had been placed to the ceremony site, it seemed to go by quickly, and the massive stone and gold doors seemed to come out of nowhere, looming in front of him, their great height would have been imposing to even a full sized jotun. Why on Midgard did the Æsir need such huge doorways?

The sharp sound of boots clicking to attention caused him to turn and he had to repress his look of joy. Hodr stood at the end of one of the other corridors, dressed in ceremonial robes that were the color of eggplant and emeralds, augmented with copper accents. His honey-shaded hair hung around his shoulders. He slowly turned his head from left to right, before stopping, focusing straight on where Loki was standing and came over to stand next to him. 

“I certainly hope I have not just walked up next to a pedestal of flowers.” He remarked, smiling.

“No.” He answered, returning the smile. “I take it they will open the doors when they want us to come in.”

“Yes.” Hodr's hand came up and touched his cheekbone, trailing his fingers from one side of his face to the other, frowning when he encountered the heritage lines on the side of cheeks. “Those... those are not scars, are they?”

He chuckled. “Did you skip the chapter on certain aspects of jotun biology?” 

“I believe many of the books I read may have... glossed over the subject.” His fingers went down to Loki's chin, and he jerked his hand back. “I best stop before I get carried away.” 

Loki nodded, then remembered; Hodr couldn't see him do that. “I...” He was cut off as music began to blare and the two doors began to open. “We'll get back to that later this evening.” 

“Looking forward to it.” He replied, offering his arm. “How long have we been waiting for this?”

He set his hand on Hodr's arm, resisting the urge to clutch it as they started forward into the hall, and hundreds of guests. “Two hundred and sixty-five years, I believe.”

“Two hundred sixty five years, seven months, three weeks and four days to be exact.” Loki could tell he was repressing a grin as they continued down towards the dais at the front of the room, the music and the clapping were vying with one another to see which could be louder at this point, and something told him that if his hair didn't give him a headache by the end of all this, the noise certainly would.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A wedding, a dinner and well, pillow talk.

The great hall was full of people. Loki had never seen so many people in one place before; even at the feasts and important holidays on Jotunheim, there had never been such a crowd. The truly odd thing was, every last one of the attendees were happy. They were cheering, clapping, - they were overjoyed for him and Hodr, or at least, putting on an amazing performance. He had felt that he was going to be laughed at, mocked, something – but instead, here were all these people, attending this ceremony that would unite two realms. There was a twist in his chest when he remembered that no one but he was representing his home; his former home. But that was the way of it – this wedding was nothing more than the first link in repairing the bridge between Asgard and Jotunheim. 

If hadn't been for the crowd, he was certain the path from the door to the dais would seem twice as far as it was. The master of ceremonies stood at the far end, waiting for him and Hodr. Behind him stood the rest of Hodr's family; King Odin, who looked as stern and severe as he was in all the stories had had been told of him. Queen Frigga, a sharp contrast of her husband, her smile seemed genuine. Prince Tyr and his wife, Princess Ilika, her pale blue skin and pointed ears marking her light-elf heritage, seemed honest. Thor was massive; a towering blond wall that looked ready to tear through any army put in front of him single-handed. Then there was Baldr, Hodr's twin. The contrast between the two was remarkable; his eyes were the same shade as Odin's, his expression was unreadable.

He and Hodr reached the end of their walk, and the noise abated, save for a shuffling of feet and the occasional cough. Princess Ilika stepped forward and took the bouquet of flowers from him, squeezing his fingers reassuringly. Perhaps he looked more nervous than he felt. 

The officiant came to stand in front of them, and he looked ancient; even by the standards of the Realm Eternal. “Today, before this assembly, two souls have come to be joined in the bonds of marriage. Through their own consent and of their own free will.” 

Loki had to bite his lip to keep from smirking and he risked a sideways glance at Hodr, who was doing the exact same thing. He knew that the vows were the same no matter how the couple came together, perhaps the falsehood that this was of free will was given to amuse the Norns, so they would be too busy laughing to curse them. 

“Raised on different realms, facing different challenges, the Norns have sought to unite both them and the worlds from which they come, to maintain the continued peace and a hopeful future, and bring all the realms closer to a time when all nine shall live in perfect harmony.” The man continued, and Loki wondered who was going to tell the Midgardians of the idea and survive the encounter. “Hodr, son of Odin and Frigga, have you come here today, before this assembly and all the realms of your own free will, to join your life with Loki, son of Laufey and Araja?”

“I have so consented.” Hodr replied, and Loki noticed that his sightless eyes focused on the officiant's chin. 

“And have you, Loki, son of Laufey and Araja, come here today, before this assembly and all of the realms of your own free will, to join your life with Hodr, son of Odin and Frigga?”

“I have so consented.” He answered, surprised his voice didn't crack. He wasn't nervous, he just – it was hard to believe that it was finally happening; after two and a half centuries, he and Hodr were finally getting married; he was half convinced he was dreaming. 

The officiant held out his hands, and he turned to face Hodr and he turned to face him, uncertain of how the next few moments would be choreographed, as he'd not been versed in hands-fasting customs of Asgard, he only knew of how such things were done on Vanaheim and Jotunheim. He caught the slight movement of Hodr's right hand, so he took it with his. It was a good thing they had already held hands earlier today; the touch sent a slight jolt through his arm and he tightened his grip, hoping he wasn't hurting the Æsir. 

Queen Frigga stepped forward, carrying a length of ribbon, and she deftly wrapped the center of the fabric around their clasped hands, then the ends around their wrists. She touched each of their cheeks for a moment, and Loki could see that she was fighting back tears. She returned to her place and that was when he noticed something else; Baldr's expression, while he was smiling, was clearly a mask – whatever he was feeling, it certainly wasn't happiness. He swallowed and then felt Hodr squeeze his hand again. He bit at his lip, since he couldn't shake his head at this time and let himself get back to what he wanted and needed to stay focused on, the man standing in front of him. The officiant's voice suddenly seemed far away, he was talking about duty, or some other such thing. Loki chose to focus on Hodr's eyes. The unseeing eyes that were so blue, so bright, it was hard to believe he could not see what was before him. They were beautiful, just like their owner. He once thought them the color of a glacier's heart, and he was right, and he wondered what he would use to describe his own eyes of red. The world came rushing back suddenly, abruptly as he felt his beloved nudge his foot, calling him back to the moment. 

“Hodr, son of Odin and Frigga, you have sworn that you have come here of your own free will. Do you also swear now, before this assembly, before all the realms, that you take Loki, son of Laufey and Araja, from your next breath until your last, to be your lawfully wedded husband? To cherish, to hold, to love and honor?”

Hodr squeezed his hand. “I do so swear. Once, twice, and a third time I swear, that I take Loki to be my lawfully wedded husband, from this breath onward, until my last.” Tears were in the corners of his eyes, threatening to fall. 

The officiant turned to Loki. “Loki, son of Laufey and Araja, you have sworn that you have come of your own free will. Do you also swear now, before this assembly, before all the realms, that you take Hodr, son of Odin and Frigga, from your next breath until your last, to be your lawfully wedded husband? To cherish, to hold, to love and to honor?”

He squeezed Hodr's hand. “I do so swear.” He had no idea how his voice didn't crack. “Once, twice, and a third time I swear, that I take Hodr to be my lawfully wedded husband, from this breath onward, until my last.” He blinked back tears. He felt rather ashamed, he wasn't supposed to be crying, was he? He smiled, a warm feeling settling in his chest.

“By their own words, they have bound their lives together, before this assembly.” The officiant's voice was getting distant again. “However, words are words, and actions can speak more volumes than can ever be uttered in a thousand years. Therefore, Hodr, Loki, bind your words with a kiss.” 

Hodr gave him a slightly shy smile and set a hand on his cheek, before leaning forward and brushing his lips against his, a soft, gentle – and chaste – kiss. “I'll give you a proper kiss later.” He whispered as he pulled away and the people began to cheer.

**  
While the crowds of people were invited to the ceremony, only family, nobles of other realms, and select members of the upper class were to dine within the great feasting hall. The rest of Asgard was to celebrate in the grand courtyards, where there would be food, wine and dancing. Hodr wasn't too disturbed by this fact, it was how it was with all weddings of the hierarchy of their society. What _did_ bother him was the way this meal was rapidly turning into 'just another feast' instead of what it was, his and Loki's _wedding_. It was as if the two of them were no more than a couple who had been invited, rather than the guests of honor. He could see that this was going to be the first in a long line of slights for the pair of them, at least until Father relinquished the throne to one of his brothers. He had grown used to being ignored constantly, most of Asgard regarded him as 'the silent prince' or 'the hidden prince' – the first distinction he did not mind, the second he did. He had hoped this wedding would change things.

What a fool he was; Asgardians _loathed_ change. The fact that they had come to see the youngest son of the Allfather marry the second son of the king of Jotunheim was almost an afterthought.

“Is it always so noisy?” Loki whispered to him, his tone pained.

“Unfortunately.” He shook his head as he heard a mug shatter. “I hate when they do that.”

“It's wasteful.” Hodr could hear his husband's contempt. “Please tell me this will not conclude in people throwing food at one another.” 

“If it does, we will be gone from the hall by then.” He gave his hand a slight squeeze. “We're supposed to leave before the ninth bell. Although if we left now, I doubt anyone would notice.”

“As much as I too, would love to depart, I would like to finish my meal. I was too nervous this morning to eat my breakfast.” He chuckled. “Is something else wrong?” 

“The fact that we are being ignored should be viewed as blatant disrespect.” He picked up his fork and knife, cutting into a slice of meat on his plate. “Normally, this would not bother me, but tonight...” 

“I understand.” Loki answered and he heard him pick up a spoon. “I, for one, am glad to finally be at a feast without someone warning me that I might get stepped on.” 

He shook his head again as he chewed on his food. Perhaps it was a blessing that they were being treated as such. It spared them from people trying to succor favor with the Allfather and Allmother through them, it also kept them from having to endure false compliments and praise. Hidden words in their congratulations, barely disguised scorn for their union. After tomorrow, they were to spend a week in their chambers, 'getting to know one another' as any other married couple would. As he and Loki already had carried on conversations, they could avoid the awkwardness and... he nearly dropped his fork as he felt the jotun poke him. “What?”

“Your ears just turned red. They always did in dreams when you were thinking of something...” Loki cleared his throat. “I best stop before I start blushing as well.” 

“I do not believe anyone is watching us.” He stabbed at his meat again. “How is your soup, not to hot, is it?”

“The soup is wonderful. As to being watched, there's a woman with dark brown hair sitting next to your sister in law, they keep looking over at us.” He sighed. “I fear this sort of fare might be addictive. We do not have such things on Jotunheim.” 

“What sort of fare, soup?” He chewed thoughtfully. “The woman in question would be Lady Sif. I've yet to determine which is worse, her bark or her bite. Since I have the sense to avoid both, my research is limited.” 

Loki touched his wrist, brushing it with his finger. It was a gentle movement, and he smiled. “Soup with so much broth is what I am talking about, I believe most soups on Jotunheim would be considered stew on any other realm.” He slid his fingers over the top of his hand, and Hodr drew in a sharp breath, the sensation almost made him shiver. “And think, if we were being overwhelmed with well-wishers, we could not enjoy such...” His hand pulled away. “Good evening, Prince Baldr.” 

Hodr smiled. “Good evening, brother. I have not had a chance to talk to you since lunch.” 

“Don't even think about dancing.” He spat. “The two of you look...” 

“Baldr, I don't believe the dancing will start until all have finishing dining.” Hodr sighed, wishing his twin would calm down about the whole situation. “Besides, Loki is unfamiliar with our dances and this is not the time for him to learn.” He smiled. “Perhaps at the next feast.”

“Brother!” Thor's voice suddenly called and his twin gave a grunt. Their elder brother must have thumped him on the back. “I believe the two of us had better watch our step, or we shall also be married before the century is out.” 

“Don't be ridiculous.” Baldr made an odd noise. “We are too young.” 

“Nonsense! Hodr is seven minutes your junior, and here he sits, wedded before either of us.” Thor chuckled. “Come! Let us find some lonely maids in need of companionship at this fine affair.”

“I believe you might need to check your back, Prince Thor.” Loki interjected. “Lady Sif seems to be shooting daggers with her eyes into it.” 

“Mind your own business, jotun.” Baldr spat.

“I beg your pardon?” Loki's voice dropped an octave, and Hodr set a hand on his knee under the table, squeezing it slightly.

“Something wrong with your hearing?” His twin countered.

“Come, Baldr, I believe you've had a little too much to drink.” Thor coughed. “Let's not have a scene on this happy day.”

“To Helheim with it being a happy day.” Baldr spat. “This is...”

“What do you think you're doing?” Mother's voice hissed. “Thor, take your brother outside to cool his head.” 

“Yes, Mother.” Thor answered, dutifully. “And congratulations, Hodr, Loki.” His tone brightened. “I wish you both a long and happy marriage.” 

Hodr set his fork down, sitting back in his chair. “That could have been ugly.” 

“I do not understand why your brother is being so immature about all of this.” Mother sighed. “It's not like him.”

He chuckled. “I believe you have him and Tyr mixed up.”

Loki moved his hand off of his leg, but nudged his foot with his. “I do not wish to cause any trouble.” 

“Trouble?” Mother let out a soft sigh. “This is in no way your fault, Loki. Old prejudices and too much liquor are to blame here, and I am sorry.” 

“Mother, it is fine.” He smiled. “Honestly.” 

“You two are a wonderful couple.” She replied and he felt her touch his cheek. “You won't need to remain for much longer. I know you have never cared for crowds.” There was a shift in her movement and he sensed she did the same to Loki. “I imagine you're not one for them either.”

“I am fine, your... Frigga.” He answered, but Loki's tone was full of forced civility. 

“Mother, I do not suppose that as we are not expected to do any further duties at the feast, if Loki and I could simply go straight to dessert. Certainly no one will notice if we eat and then slip out of the hall.” He felt his cheeks go slightly pink. “I mean...”

“I quite understand, Hodr.” Mother had known about the conversations the two of them had. Mother always had a way of knowing everything. “Why don't you finish up what you're eating and after that, dessert will be sent to you.” 

“Thank you, Mother.” He answered, picking up his fork. He took another bite of his meat, the savory flavor finally tasting good on his palette. He felt Loki nudge his foot again, and he turned towards him. “You're not upset about my suggestion, are you?”

“No.” He suddenly felt Loki closer to him, his breath cool against his ear. “Your brother was not talking about the sort of dancing that will be taking place in the great hall shortly. He meant the other kind.” 

Hodr coughed. “He must think we plan on being monks.” 

Loki chuckled and kissed his cheek. “Or he thinks we did not understand his meaning. I wonder what has him so worried.” 

“He fears you will break my heart.” He shook his head. “Finish your soup, darling. I believe we have been waiting for our first dance for long enough.” 

**

Leaving the banquet hall was laughably easy. Loki certainly hoped that Hodr knew where they were going, as he was already confused by the twists and turns they had taken. Fortunately, they had gone deep enough into the palace that they were free of crowds and they only passed the occasional guard. He thought absently of his brother's wedding and of the jotun tradition of getting caught trying to leave the festivities early. He was convinced that the only people, other than the Allmother, who noticed they were gone were the servants who had collected their empty dishes. 

“You're quiet.” Hodr murmured. “Is something wrong?”

“No, I'm just turned around, that's all.” He squeezed his husband's hand. “There are more corridors and wings in this place than I thought.” 

“I'm sorry.” They came to a stop. “I didn't want to admit this, but I'm afraid I'm a little lost.” 

“Well, I suspect you might be... distracted.” He felt himself flush. “I suppose I should have asked how to get there also.” 

Hodr chuckled and kissed his chin. “I know we're in the right wing of the palace, I just think we're on the wrong floor.” 

“Perhaps I can help, there are two tall windows flanking the corridor in front of us, well, I say tall, but given other windows we've passed...”

“How many panes?” Hodr squeezed his hand again. “Six or eight?”

“Six.” He answered. 

“We're not as lost as I thought, I believe I know exactly where we are.” He chuckled and they started walking again, and they turned into a short corridor, going down a small flight of stairs. “They changed the flowers in the vases, that's what had me confused.”

The passageway they were now in was dimly lit, with few doors. “Rather quiet.” 

“Yes.” He stopped in front of a pair of double doors and set his free hand on the carving, a massive tree with branches that hung down around it, as if it was weeping. “This is it.” He pushed the doors open and they stepped into their room. “I just hope no one moved any furniture.” 

Loki pulled away from him slightly, feeling uncertain. A fire was crackling in the hearth, the flames low and there was a comfortable looking couch drawn up near it. Through an open threshold, he could see a massive bed, the sheets already turned down. There was a mountain of pillows at the head, the posts at each corner were nearly twice his height, and they held a canopy, with more curtains that could be closed around the bed itself. He swallowed, looking off to the side. “This room is huge.” 

“I suppose it is.” Hodr came up behind him, hugging him around the waist and kissing his neck. “Although I suspect it is smaller than your tower back on Jotunheim was.”

He chuckled. “My tower was built for a normal sized jotun. Everything was big, so I suppose it was a large chamber, but this is all on one floor, I had two there.” He leaned back against his husband, closing his eyes. “Well, one and a half.” 

Hodr nuzzled his neck. “I'm just glad that we are finally alone.” He drew away and started to unfasten the fixtures of his jacket. “Just...” He flushed. “I mean...”

“I understand.” He walked over to a low table behind the couch. “They've left us some of wine, would you care for some?”

“What does it smell like?” He asked, sitting down on a chair and removing his boots. “I've been wearing shoes too long.”

Loki lifted the decanter and pulled the stopper, taking a whiff. “It smells sweet, I can't place it.” He held it level with his eyes. “It's a white wine or, uh...” He poured some into a glass and took a sip. “It tastes the way that spring smells, if that makes sense.” 

“It's Filonia. From Vanaheim.” Hodr answered and came over as he filled two goblets. “A wine for relaxing.” He took the goblet that Loki offered. “Thank you.”

“You're welcome.” The two of them sat down on the couch, and he pulled off his own shoes, wiggling his toes. “Much better.” He set his goblet aside and started to remove his jewelery as well. “I'm afraid it's going to take me a great deal of time to get used to wearing a form of shoes other than slippers.” He pulled his arms out of the bolero, folding it and placing it over the arm of the couch.

Hodr smiled and took a sip of wine, before setting his goblet next to his and leaned forward, pressing his lips against his. Loki parted his mouth under the kiss, letting it deepen. His husband pulled back and brought his hands up to touch Loki's face, his fingertips trailing across his jaw. He drew in a sharp breath as one brushed against his ear. “I've wondered how your face was for so long.” Loki closed his eyes as the man's fingers went over his cheekbones. “Tried to imagine it.” His hands slid up into his hair and he frowned. “Norns, this is complicated.” 

He chuckled in response and opened his eyes. “I know it is, it's more done up than I normally have it.” 

“May I?” He gently pulled one of the roses from a braid.

“Of course.” He answered. “There shouldn't be any thorns.” 

Hodr grinned and ran his fingers over the top of his head, counting. “I was right, there were ten.” He worked another bloom free. “I remember when you told me of the tradition on Jotunheim about brides and their hair.” He kissed his neck as he removed another rose. “I feel rather... bad that I cannot fully appreciate the custom.” 

“It's not your fault.” Loki brushed a curl out of Hodr's face. “Regardless, I intend to carry out what is called for, to the best of my ability.” He reached up and took out two roses. “I'm guessing that at sometime in the near future, while you'll keep a footman, I'll be given a lady's maid.” 

He smiled and set the roses he'd removed next to the wine glasses. “I have no idea how that will work out, considering that you've told me that you took care of yourself on Jotunheim.” He pulled out another rose. 

“I believe the only duty your footman has had in his career is to make sure you do not leave your chambers in clashing colors and possibly shave you.” He chuckled and kissed his chin. “Is there a reason that you are clean shaven while your brothers are not?” He set the seventh rose onto the table.

“Risk of hair catching on fire while working on potions.” He quipped, and then sighed. “No, that's not it. Men who, ah, prefer magic to might in Asgard are not exactly, shall I say, _worthy_ of having a beard.” 

“That has to be one of the stupidest things I have ever heard.” He snorted. “What does being able to bash in skulls have to do with beards?” Loki sighed. “I didn't mean that, I shouldn't...”

“No, no it's all right. I'm not exactly sure why it is that way. My father uses magic, and he has a beard.” He took out another rose. “Then again, he is the king so who's going to tell him no?”

“Well, it's a moot point for me, I cannot grow a beard.” He set the last rose down on the table. “Do not ask me how many pins are in my hair, I did not keep count.” He picked up his wine goblet and took a drink. 

“I'll find them all.” He sighed and ran a finger down Loki's neck. “Would you, ah, please turn around?” 

“Certainly.” He moved so his back was to Hodr, and he was left with the view of a tapestry whose details he couldn't make out. “It will probably be easiest to do the braids at the bottom first.” 

“I'll manage.” Hodr placed a kiss on the nape of his neck, rubbing his nose against the spot after. His fingers did not move to his hair, but went down to the buttons of Loki's gown and deftly undid them. “It'll be easier later, if your hair is as long as I imagine.” 

“I'm not objecting.” Loki remarked as his fingers went back up his spine and started to gently pull the pins from his hair. There was something extremely intimate about his husband freeing his tresses. No other man had ever touched his hair before, not even members of his own family, not like this. His younger brother had pulled it a time or two, but that was entirely different. There was a slight clatter as Hodr dropped half a dozen pins on the table. He took another sip of wine, letting himself relax. 

“I've been thinking about colors.” Hodr whispered as he took out more pins. “I remember you promised you would teach me about them.” 

Loki smiled down into his wine glass. “So I did.” The liquid was a bright shade, it reminded him of bleached ivory. “Although I admit, I am surprised no one thought to tell you about colors before.” 

“I don't think it was deemed important, as I did just fine with seidr without knowing them. I have a notion of what color is, but it is not clear.” He set down another bunch of pins and slowly unwound one of the buns. “What is...is there something woven into your braids?” 

“Yes. There should be three strands of platinum with diamonds worked into each of them.” He shifted his head slightly. “Rather too much, I felt, but then, I didn't want to start an argument over my hair with your mother.” 

Hodr chuckled and let the braid fall against his back. “I will get this other braid first. Then I'll unbind them at the same time.” He kissed the back of Loki's neck again. “Color.” He paused. “Your hair is black, correct?”

“Yes, a shade of black that can, in certain light, appear blue.” He took a sip of wine. “Your hair is the color of honey.” 

“Honey. I was not aware of that.” He let out a snicker. “I was merely told it was darker than Thor's, lighter than Tyr's.” He paused. “Is it true that my twin's hair is red?”

“Yes, well, sort of red. It's the same color as your mother's hair.” He closed his eyes as he felt Hodr's fingers brush the back of his neck. He didn't want to think about Baldr anymore than he had to. “So many colors. I confess, I will have trouble trying to describe all of them too you.” 

“Hm.” Hodr dropped the pins onto the table and unwound the second braid. “I take it I should start at the bottom?”

“That's the best way.” He reached up and started to pull the pins holding the top braid out. 

“Norns, you have so much hair.” He muttered as he gently tugged one of the braids open. “So soft...” His fingers worked into his tresses, smoothing it out as he did so. “How long is it?”

“It reaches mid-thigh.” He resisted the urge to shake his head to loosen the strands. Loki set the pins down as Hodr undid the second braid. “If you would like me to grow it longer, I will.” 

“I believe it is fine how it is.” There was a heavy clunk as he set the jeweled strands on the table. “Those must be terribly heavy.” His fingers moved up his scalp, massaging it as he found the final braid and undid it as well. “There.” He turned Loki to face him and brushed his cheek. “My beautiful bride.” He pressed his lips against his, a ghost of a kiss. 

Loki smiled and returned it. “Do not call me that when we are in public.” He rubbed his nose against Hodr's cheek. “I only want to hear it from you when we are alone.” 

His husband smiled. “I can agree to that.” He let out a breath. “I...” 

“I thought I was supposed to be the shy, blushing one.” He teased, kissing Hodr's chin. “My precious topaz.” 

Hodr touched his cheek. “Brilliant sapphire.” 

Loki took a breath and stood, his heart starting to pound. “I will go wait for you in the bed, we will commit acts of unbridled lust which involve carrying one another around on nights when we are better acquainted in such arts.” 

Hodr laughed. “So forward.” 

“Sometimes.” He pulled away from the couch and, holding the bodice of the gown, walked into the bedchamber, quickly shedding the garment and tossing it over a bench at the foot of the bed. He removed his small-clothes and climbed into the bed, trying to calm his breathing. Why was he so nervous? He knew Hodr, they had talked countless times, they had avoided doing this in dreams, and now that it was here, why was he so afraid? 

“Loki?” Hodr spoke from the doorway, looking just as nervous as he felt. “You're here, aren't you?”

“Yes, I am here.” He answered, trying not to take in his husband's naked form all at once. He moved to the edge of the bed as Hodr approached and set his arms on the man's shoulders, smiling. “I believe you owe me a proper kiss.” 

He grinned in response and slid one hand into Loki's hair, holding his head as he pressed his lips against Loki's, gently nudging his mouth open so his tongue could slip inside. The kiss was tender, not entirely forceful, but there was still an edge of lust in it and Hodr pulled away, breathing hard. “I love you.” 

“I love you.” Loki brushed a kiss against his mouth, tugging on Hodr's bottom lip with both of his. “Come husband, I should like to dance.” With that, Hodr rose up onto the bed and Loki wrapped both of his arms around his shoulders, falling back into the mattress and the small mountain of pillows, pulling the prince down with him. 

**

Hodr shifted in the bed, awoken by the soft thump of windows being opened, bringing with it the scent of earth, late summer flowers, and the barest hint of autumn. A gentle rain was falling outside, and he could hear a heavy rushing sound from a gutter opening. There were other noises, in the next room; the table settings being laid down, the slight rattle of lids, and the nearest footsteps quickly retreated from the bedchamber and moment later, a whisper of words and then the outer door opened and shut. He stretched, his face coming into contact with an expanse of bare skin. He smiled and kissed the shoulder he found, brushing back hair to place another on the neck connected to it. “Good morning.” 

Loki let out a soft groan and moved next to him, stretching. “Good morning.” There was a rustle and then Hodr could feel the man's breath near his face. “Sleep well?”

“The best I've had in years.” He slid his hand under the covers to rest on Loki's hip. “Not in pain, are you?”

“No.” He smiled as his husband kissed his chin. “A little sore, but nothing that a bath cannot soothe.” 

“I'm sorry.” He sighed and pulled Loki close, rolling onto his back, so the jotun's head was resting on his chest. “I should have been... gentler, I suppose.”

“You were gentle.” He replied, rubbing his cheek against him. “It was something that could not be helped.” Loki shifted and he heard a joint pop. “My nest back on Jotunheim was not so large.” 

“I always have had trouble picturing that. The only thing I know of that sleep in nests that I've studied are birds.” He twirled a lock of his lover's hair around his finger. “I suspect it was not made of twigs and such.”

Loki laughed. “No, hardly. It was made of pelts. This bed is considerably softer.” He nuzzled him. “And I had naught but my own company. Well, don't tell Jora I said that, but she has the worst breath.” 

Hodr chuckled. “If it is bad as Elsa's, I completely understand. I never let her sleep on the bed.” 

“That's because you didn't need to huddle together for warmth.” He responded and wrapped an arm around him. “We're going to have to leave this bed sometime.” 

“They've brought us breakfast, so it must be sometime after the eighth morning bell. We're not expected to present proof of our consummation until after noon.” He grimaced. “That sounds terrible.”

“It's a technical term, Hodr. When you consider how many brides are taken to their marriage beds against their wishes,” He moved and kissed his forehead. “Calling what they do a consummation is like calling our leopards fluff balls.” 

“Point.” He sighed and sat the two of them up, and he smoothed down Loki's hair. “Quite the tangled mess you have here.” 

“You're more than welcome to help me brush it out, or is that frowned on here in Asgard?” He voice was full of amusement.

“I'd be delighted, considering I am partially to blame for it's current state.” He leaned forward and kissed him softly. “We'll need something to keep us occupied after we break our fast.” He squeezed Loki's knee. “Well, I can think of a few other things, but we don't want to be late.” 

Loki chuckled and touched his forehead against his. “Pity we can't just dump the bedclothes into the hallway and be done with it.” 

Hodr chuckled. “Agreed.” He brushed his lips with his. “They'll leave food in the room while we're gone.”

He rubbed his cheek against his. “We better get up and eat before we get distracted.” He pulled away. “I know we are supposed to spend the next week getting to know one another.” He traced his ear with his tongue, causing Hodr to shiver. “But we already well acquainted. So we can spend our time... dancing.” 

“My bride is such a wicked tease.” He heard Loki stand and he followed, setting a hand on the small of Loki's back. “I am not completely familiar with the room, and I don't remember where I left my clothes last night.” 

“It's all right.” Loki wrapped an arm around his waist, pressing another kiss on his cheek. “My Topaz.” 

Hodr hugged him close. “My Sapphire.”


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The day after.

Loki kept his eyes closed as he felt the brush move through his hair, letting out a relaxed sigh. He had thoroughly enjoyed it yesterday when the small army of handmaidens had done his hair for him, and now Hodr was brushing out his tresses. “Are you certain you don't want me to help?” He knew all to well what a perfect nightmare untangling a night's sleep was on his hair, no doubt made a thousand times worse from he and his husband's activities. He let out a sigh as he felt Hodr's hand follow the brush, the gentle touch was like a spark against his skin. 

“No, I am quite all right.” Hodr chuckled. “I'm more to blame for this mess than you are.” The brush ran close to Loki's face, his fingers brushing against his husband's ear. “I still don't know how you wash it all.” 

“In sections.” Loki opened his eyes, grinning. “I'm used to it.” 

This morning had been rather peaceful, while the rain continued outside, it set a rhythm that was both unfamiliar to him and yet, comforting. The breakfast trays had been heavily laden with eggs, fruits, sausages and toast. It was the variety of food on Asgard that was harder to grasp than the quantities of it. He wasn't certain if it was true for Hodr, but he had woken with a ravenous hunger, almost as if he had not dined the night before. 

“Hm.” Hodr answered, twirling a lock around his fingers. “I know that some jotuns have horns, and while I know you do not, you do not have any... oh, what are they called...”

He shook his head. “Spots. There's no need to use the long term, they're called spots and I do not have any.” 

His husband nodded and took a mass of hair in one hand and ran the brush through the lower section, frowning. “I hope this won't turn into a frizzled mess.”

“I'll braid it, so don't worry.” He replied. “I'm used to keeping it bound, and it's probably better if I keep it that way most of the time.” He watched his husband in the mirror, who moved the section he had just finished and then started on the next. “Is something wrong?”

“I'm having trouble believing this is real.” He intoned. “That you're actually here, we're actually married, that... all of this.” 

“It's real, Hodr. Believe me. There is a stain on the bedclothes and a slight soreness between my legs that can attest to that.” He sighed. “Is it something more?”

His husband set down the brush and then sat down on the stool in front of the vanity. “I've known for quite some time that we were going to be married. Perhaps not as long as you did, but a decent amount of time. My father, however, chose not to inform my brothers until a few weeks before the wedding. Tyr and Thor did not seem to care much, but Baldr... he's had... issues.” 

“I noticed that.” Loki clasped Hodr's hand in his. “I do not expect to be accepted by Asgard as a whole for quite some time, but is that not what this marriage was about in the beginning? Bringing our respective realms together?”

He nodded and then reached up, stroking his cheek. “I just worry that something will happen to you. As I stated, my brother fears you will break my heart, but I am far more worried that he will break your neck.” 

Loki gaped at him. “You cannot be serious. Surely your brother is not so rash.” 

“I am worried, Loki.” He pulled him into a tight embrace, his lips pressed against his ear. “I've always had a way of knowing things, and I fear that this is our dream time, only to be followed by a nightmare, and that Baldr will inevitably be behind it.”

“You're worse than my dam.” He wanted to laugh, to bring some lightness to the situation. An arrogant creep Baldr Odinson might be, but to court war? Risk hurting his brother by hurting him? Certainly he wasn't that stupid. “She was worried I would be strangled in my marriage bed on my wedding night the day my sire told her of his plans. I was only twelve hours old and already she thought I would come to Asgard for my execution.” 

Hodr pressed his face into his hair. “Do not jest, my Sapphire.”

“Beloved...” He sighed and closed his eyes. “I do not know what I can say to comfort you or convince you that things will be fine.” He swallowed. “Perhaps instead of skirting the issue, we should be direct. Your brother cannot openly hate me if we make a conscious effort to interact with him.”

“He can and he will.” He resumed brushing his hair, although Loki noticed that his hands trembled slightly. “Just, be careful. Promise me that if we are not together, you will be careful.” 

“I promise.” He smiled and took some of the brushed hair and began to braid it. He wasn't overly worried about Baldr, he was far more concerned that some guard might do something than an actual member of the royal family. “I'm not entirely defenseless.” 

“I know you're not.” He let out a breath, and he seemed to be steeling himself up. “And perhaps I am worried for nothing. But still, it does not hurt to be prepared.” He was quiet for a moment and then let out a breath. “You are certain that I did not harm you last night?” 

“No.” Loki tied the end of the braid with a strap of leather. “I am unharmed, although I may have seemed far more confident that I was.” He felt his cheeks flush. “I did not want to disappoint you.”

Hodr's hands stilled. “Disappoint me?” 

He bit at his lip and looked away. “It... I am sorry. All my life, I was kept hidden away, so all I have in reference on the intimacies of lovers and couples has come from books.”

His husband set the brush down and took his cheek in his hand. “Loki, you are not a disappointment. The furthest thing from it. My knowledge is only slightly more than yours.” He swallowed and wrapped his arms around him. “We shall endeavor to be honest with each other from now on. If something is wrong, we shall tell one another, if we are uncomfortable, we should speak without fear.” 

Loki nodded and returned the embrace. “Perhaps this week will be good for us in more ways than one.” 

Hodr let out a breath. “I have two goals for our time together. One is to become comfortable with you, the other, is to familiarize myself with this room enough that I don't need help getting around in it.” He pulled away. “Why don't you braid your hair? It will not be long before we are brought luncheon.” 

“Where does the time go?” He replied and started working as Hodr stood and walked into the bedchamber. 

*  
“We left without saying farewell.” Baldr knew it sounded pathetic even before he said it. “Mother wouldn't like that.” He hadn't wanted to go on a hunting trip with Thor, well, he might have, but he had to stay home and watch out for Hodr. But he was being drug along at his older brother's insistence. “And could we not have waited for the rain to clear?”

“It won't be raining outside of the city.” Thor called, grinning. “Come, you love hunting game birds.” 

“I suppose.” He tightened his grip on his reigns. “I didn't see when Hodr and Loki left last night, did you?”

“I don't think anyone knows.” His brother answered. “You were halfway into a barrel of mead before the dancing started, so what does it matter?” He chuckled. “How's the hangover?”

“Awful. Would that I could be sleeping it off.” He glowered at his brother. “Where are your friends, Thor? I would have thought at least Fandral would be coming along.” 

“Fandral has duties, as does Hogun. Volstagg is more Tyr's friend than mine. Besides, his wife's second child is due any day now and he does not wish to leave her.” Thor glanced back at him. “What, would you like to invite Hodr and Loki?”

“Hodr doesn't hunt and I doubt Loki even knows how.” He scoffed. “I heard Mother telling Ilika last night, Laufey apparently kept him locked up in a tower.” 

“That's terrible.” That wasn't the response Baldr was expecting. “Locking your child away like that. Even if was for his protection. How terrible to be kept away from your family by your family.” Thor frowned as he drew even with him. “We weren't so cruel to Hodr, were we?” 

“I don't believe so.” He lied. He'd spent more time with his elder brother than with his twin. “Hodr wasn't one for the great outdoors, you know that.” 

“He does take good care of the gardens. But then, that's not wildlife, is it?” Thor chuckled. 

A particularly large raindrop hit Baldr on the nose and ran down. “You're awfully chipper, brother, what the devil are you so happy about?”

“Is it a crime to be cheerful?” Thor laughed. “There's little reason for us to be so miserable. We shall be uncles come the Yule, we have a new brother in law, and there is peace in the realms.” 

“Stop it, Thor. You're not happy, you're bloody pissed about something. This whole cheerfulness is a damn act.” He seethed. “Out with it.” 

His brother ducked his head, his smile faltering, ever so slightly. “I feel that Father waited entirely too long to tell us of Hodr's marriage. We should have been made aware centuries ago. When Tyr was wed.” 

Baldr rolled his eyes and ducked under a heavy-hanging branch. “The whole thing is a farce. What was Father thinking?”

“This marriage is the first step towards helping bridge peace between Asgard and Jotunheim. If the Nine Realms do not stand together, then how can we hope to stand against things from without?” His brother's face darkened. “There are reports of the Kree setting their sights on Alfheim, and the Chitauri covet Midgard.”

He snorted. “And no one is bothering with Jotunheim. Why should they?” 

“You forget things, Baldr. Our grandmother was of Jotunheim, as is our new brother-in-law. Warriors on Asgard are not adjusted for battle in the cold of space. The Jotun, however, would be greatly adept, with some training.” Thor sighed. “You do not approve of Loki. No matter which of us he had been wed to.” 

“Certainly you feel the same way. It's... it's _unnatural_. A man, capable of carrying a babe? It's...” He shook his head. “I see I will not persuade you. You already believe this is a good thing.” Was he to lose all of his brothers over that blue beast? His head jerked up as he felt Thor grip his arm. “What?”

“Take care, brother. You are treading on thin ground with such words. Would you see us at war?” His face was red with rage. “Have innocents die for your wounded pride?”

“I would see my family happy.” He retorted, tugging his hand free. “All of us.” 

“Has it ever occurred to you Baldr, that Hodr _is_ happy?” He shook his head. “This is nonsense. We cannot change what has happened. Our brother has wed Prince Loki and it is up to them to make their marriage work, and it is not for us to interfere.” Thor chanced a smile. “Would you like to race?”

“No.” He nudged his horse forward. “We shouldn't.” 

“Oh, come on, that's not the Baldr I know. Backing down from a chance to show up his big brother.” He jested.

“I'm tired and hungover.” He retorted.

“As is your horse?” He challenged.

“I said... go!” Baldr kicked his horse into a gallop, heading for the gates.

“HA!” Thor called after him and a glance back told him his brother was in pursuit. 

*  
Frigga maintained her composure as the servant announced that Hodr and Loki had arrived. It wasn't that she hadn't known what they had done on their wedding night, and it wasn't as if she knew what her two middle sons got up to from time to time; the fact remained that Hodr was her baby. The idea that he had become an adult – a married man – it was a little hard for her to take. She glanced over at Odin, who was studying a document. “I take it there was little ceremony at the Bifrost this morning.”

“No.” He didn't look up. “Crown Prince Helblindi thanked us and was gone before the sun was over the horizon.” He sighed. “Was it your suggestion that Thor take Baldr away for a few days?”

“Baldr has not approved of recent events. Hodr and Loki don't need him dogging their shadows at dinners and in the corridors, when they leave their rooms.” She stet down her teacup. “I just cannot believe what the council has demanded.” 

“You know it could not be avoided.” He sighed. “Although they did not come to a conclusion until two days ago.” 

“Two days ago you had time to tell Hodr what they said.” She retorted as the door opened and she pulled a smile as her son and his husband came into the room. Her son kept a hand on Loki's back, as if the jotun needed physical support. He was the one holding the sheets, his gaze down. “Good afternoon, Hodr, Loki.”

“Good afternoon, Mother, Father.” He smiled and took the bedclothes and handed them to her. “I am sorry we are late, we were originally told to go to the council chambers, instead of here.” 

Odin let out a sigh. “Hodr, Loki, please, sit.” He stood up. 

Frigga watched as the pair sat down on the small sofa, holding their hands together. This piece of news was not something that these two would want to hear. She had nearly screamed when she'd been informed. 

Hodr lifted his chin, his sightless blue eyes staring directly at Odin. “Father, what is wrong?”

“I am afraid that the privy council are demanding more solid evidence of your and Loki's union.” He shook his head. “They stated that a set of bloodied bedsheets are not enough to prove that you two are wed.”

“That is good enough for countless other couples, why should it be different for us? I am not your heir, father. By marrying me, Loki is removed from the line on Jotunheim.” He frowned. “What do they want, a night with witnesses?”

Loki made an odd noise and looked down, his focus on their joined hands. “Hodr...” He whispered, just loud enough for Frigga to hear.

“I am against the council's wishes, but they have argued that as I arranged for the casket to be returned without their knowledge, this is their demand.” He had the decency to look angry. Frigga was glad of that. “They have demanded that by time your marriage is two years old, you must produce a child.” 

“What?” Hodr spat and two vases on the table near the window shattered and Frigga saw Loki squeeze his hands tighter. “This is... we are too young!”

“There are younger mothers than Loki in Asgard.” He shook his head. “I tried to dissuade the council, but they were adamant.”

Frigga cleared her throat. “I agree that this is unfair. You are both barely into adulthood and should be allowed more than two years. Two decades, perhaps.” She turned to Odin. “Is there any chance of getting the waiting period extended?”

“No.” Odin's face darkened. 

“Two years is unreasonable.” Hodr stated, his expression guarded, but Frigga knew her son was furious.

“I only have eight fertile times in the next two years, unless the climate of Asgard unbalances my cycles, which I suspect it might.” Loki lifted his chin, his face looked oddly resigned. Frigga knew that sort of look; she'd worn it enough herself. The expression of someone who knew better than to argue with what they had been told to do; even if they were ready to scream at the injustice. “Must the babe be here in my arms within two years, or am I still allowed to be carrying?”

“How can you accept this?” Hodr turned to Loki, setting a hand on his cheek. “You can't be agreeing!”

“It's not my place to agree.” He intoned, and Frigga's heart fell, but then she saw something else in the jotun's red eyes – a slight glimmer of mischief. Whatever he was thinking, she knew he wouldn't be speaking it aloud. 

“I am certain that either will be satisfactory.” She answered before her husband could, giving him a sharp look as she said it. She smiled. “Would the two of you care to join us tomorrow for dinner? Tyr and Ilika are planning to do so.”

Hodr's eyes narrowed. “Where are Thor and Baldr?” His mood changed into one she recognized as a disguise. “It's far too quiet up here.” 

“They've gone on a hunt.” She offered. “I suspect they'll turn up in a few days with a cache of game and some boastful stories.” 

“I have no issue attending dinner tomorrow night.” Loki smiled, everything about his manner was cautious, the poor boy no doubt was still terrified of this place. 

“We shall be there, Mother, Father.” Hodr added, pulling a brave smile. 

“I suspect luncheon has been set up in your chambers.” She went over to the two of them and kissed each of them in turn. “We will see you tomorrow night.” 

Odin nodded. “Tomorrow night.” He waved them off, and went back to his desk. 

Frigga watched the pair leave, her expression emotionless until the door was closed. “He's livid. And rightfully so.” She went over to mend the vases. 

“We were told the same thing, Frigga, and we had witnesses.” He flinched. 

“You were the crown prince. Hodr, if I recall, is not. He has less chance of being king of Asgard than Midgard does of landing on their moon.” She shook her head. “We were also told everything before our wedding, not after.” She took up her cup, heading for her weaving room. “Who knows, perhaps the Norns will be as good to Loki as they were to me in that regard.” Perhaps she would speak to her new son-in-law about a fertility tea, much like she took the afternoon she was married and twelve hours later, Tyr was already growing within her.

*

Hodr was certain he was still flushed in the face as he and Loki entered their chambers. He took several steps away from the door as he heard his husband close it and he started to pace in what he knew was an open area of the room. He had assumed that their words and the physical evidence on the sheets would have been enough. Well, it was enough for Jotunheim to get the Casket back, but not for the council, and by default, the people of Asgard. “This is another insult. Perhaps they though you would cut yourself in place of your maidens-blood.” 

Loki let out a sigh. “Hodr, I am no happier than you are about the situation. We're both too young to be parents, we wanted some time to adjust to being married, all of it. Expecting us to produce a child within two years of today's date is rather unrealistic.” He moved closer to him, setting his hands on his shoulders. “Although all the proof of a child they need is for Eir to confirm that I'm pregnant, not for the child to physically be here. There is that.”

“You would think I am the next king of Asgard, the way they demanded it. When Thor marries, they won't expect such things from him!” He barked and pulled away. “What does it matter when we have a child? I'm starting to think having witnesses to the wedding night would have been easier.” He seethed and froze as he felt Loki's arms encircle him. 

“Sssh. No it wouldn't have been, my Topaz.” Lips brushed his cheek. “Your parents are not behind this development. Some sodding members of the privy council want this, as they weren't involved in the betrothal. For all we know, this is some condition of another agreement, to aid in a betrothal for one of your brothers. Or else they're just that pissed that my sire now has the casket back and they feel Asgard needs something more in return.”

He leaned back against Loki, trying to calm down. “Duty.” He sighed. “I suppose I should have been careful in my wishing to serve Asgard.” 

His husband chuckled and kissed his neck. “Have you tired of me so quickly, husband? The idea that you must bed me until you have sired a child?” He husked then ran his tongue over his ear. “And after?”

Hodr groaned, his sour mood rapidly turning to something else. “Never.” He turned and brushed a kiss against Loki's lips. “I'm not certain that is it, shall I say, proper for us to retire to our bed so early in the day.”

“There are other places, husband.” Loki pulled away and a moment later, he heard the door lock. “Or would you rather eat something first?” 

He chuckled and came towards the couch, his fingers finding the table behind it. “I told you, I do not know this room all that well. I thought I could learn this room before we were wed, but...” He sat down on the couch, and then felt Loki's hand on his knee. “We have six rooms, not counting our dressing closets. A study each, bathing chamber, main chamber, our sleeping room and the one on the other side of my study. Although, I have not examined that room closely.” 

“What's in it?” His voice was curious. “What would you think it could be?”

“I do not know.” He frowned. “It's not a safe room, I know that. It could be a nursery, but it's a little far from the bed for that. Shall we go explore it, see if we can make some sense of it?” 

Loki snickered. “Perhaps it is where I am to sleep when I am having my menses. Is there some strange Asgardian custom where a wife having her time is to sleep apart from her husband?”

Hodr frowned. “No.” He shook his head. “Perhaps it is unfinished, these rooms were prepared in haste, compared to others.” He grasped Loki's hand. “Walk me there, please.” 

There was a rustle as Loki stood and he remained close as they left one room and he heard their footsteps change as they went into the next. “This is my study, I know that.” There was the familiar scent of parchment and then they went into another room, the one he hadn't gone into, other than to inhale the deep scent of some flower he couldn't place. “What's in this room? What furniture?” He set a hand on the wall, finding it to be smooth. 

“A rug that covers most of the floor, a perfectly round bed that is low to the floor, nothing else.” His husband answered. “There is one window, but the glass is fogged. It lets a little light in, but I doubt much could be seen through it on either side.”

“The walls, what are the walls made of?” He couldn't think what sort of room this could be. It was took cold to be a nursery. “Stone?”

“Yes, it reminds me of granite.” Loki replied. “They're mostly covered with more tapestries...” He made a odd sound. “That are nothing a child should see. I am not certain I should be looking at such things.”

“Meaning?” He took a few tentative steps and his leg nudged into the bed, then realized what Loki had said. “The pictures... they are couples engaged in intimacy?”

“Yes.” His husband's voice sounded odd. “They are quite – graphic in nature.” 

He went towards the voice and touched the wall, taking a breath. “Tell me. Tell me what they are doing.” 

Loki gulped. “There are so many couples, Hodr...” He let out a tiny shriek, most likely catching sight of something in the tapestries that was particularly shocking. “I do not believe I can tell you all of them at once.”

Hodr frowned and ran his fingers along the woven material, feeling the change in the threads. “This couple. What are these two doing?”

“Where your hand is?” He felt Loki's hand encircle his wrist. “Here the husband is kissing his bride's neck.” his voice was ragged. “He is holding him from behind as they kneel on the bed.”

He traced the edge of the stitches, working out the positions for himself and he drew in a ragged breath. “I suppose this is more... we are quite ah, novices – at such things.”

Loki's head rested between his shoulder-blades, his arms wrapping around his waist. “All I know is from last night and a few things in books.” 

“Still, you were quite...” He cursed softly and turned around, pushing Loki up against the wall and kissing him roughly, the jotun's cool mouth was a sharp contrast to his warm skin. He jerked away, gasping. “Sorry, I'm sorry... I shouldn't...”

“Hodr, we are in a room covered with tapestries full of depraved acts.” His breath was quick. “If you're worried about hurting me, I shall tell you if something is wrong. I expect you to do likewise.” 

He brushed a thumb against Loki's cheek, wondering why he was resisting his desire. “I just... why must this be so awkward between us? We have talked for centuries and we are wed, but...” He was cut off as Loki playfully bit his bottom lip. “What was that for?”

“To cease your prattling. I didn't think you talked so much.” He chuckled and nudged his hips against his, the sensation was electric. “We cannot become comfortable with each others' bodies if we do not – practice.”

He nuzzled Loki's neck, pushing him back against the wall again, and he felt Loki's foot against his calf. “Nor can we make a child.” He chuckled. “If there's one thing we'll make sure that they can't accuse of us doing, it will be not trying.”

“Is it so wrong that I would rather we learn how best we dance first?” He slid his hands down Loki's sides, resting on his hips. “There are ways to prevent pregnancy, certainly there must be ways to increase our chances.” 

“I have heard of such things, and I am in agreement.” His hands slid up his front. “First we shall master our dance.” He kissed the corner of his mouth. “Then, my Topaz, we shall set about creating an emerald.” He kissed the other side of his mouth. 

He thought for a moment, then understood what his bride meant. “My Sapphire.” He set his lip's on his husbands as he pushed him more fully against the wall, dissolving both of their clothes with a spell.


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The end of a honeymoon - and Baldr has a new plan.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Parlst - for those of you who don't read 'The Littlest Valkyrie' is an Asgardian game bird, similar in size to a turkey, but with meat textured more like duck.

The week passed far to quickly in Loki's estimation. It might have had something to do with the days and nights blending together, the passage of hours marked only by meals and the light that fell into the chambers from the windows. He wasn't exactly certain what he and Hodr would be expected to do around the palace once this time was up; his husband had stated that before they were married, he'd never been told to do much other than show up at feasts an other important events. There was no charity to patron, nothing – so really, what had been the purpose of the two of them spending all this time in these chambers if there was nothing important for them to be doing?

“What they have asked of us is wretched.” Hodr stated, his voice full of scorn, drawing Loki back to the present.

He sighed in response, rubbing his cheek against his husband's chest, letting him speak. In his life, he'd spent so much time being ordered about and being locked away that the requests of a group of men with a handful of power and superior attitudes barely registered. While he shared Hodr's view, there was not much they could do. He tightened his arm around Hodr's waist, rather enjoying the feel of the fingers running up and down his spine. “Perhaps the privy council is afraid I will abscond with you to Jotunheim and we will retreat to my tower, where we will do nothing but engage in carnal pleasures all hours of the day, causing seidr to rain from the sky and make Utgard a city to rival Constantinople.”

Hodr let out a worn chuckle. “Your tower is starting to sound lovely. Perhaps we should.”

“I'm not allowed to leave Asgard, you know that.” He smiled. “However, there is nothing stating I have to remain in the palace.” He had been going over the council's demands when he couldn't sleep and had come up with a solution.

“What do you mean?” He sounded confused. “Where would we go?”

“One of the estates. Tyr told me about them at the wedding feast, when you were talking with your father.” He shifted so he could rest on his arms, looking into his husband's face. “It's quite simple, my Topaz. We shall have our child and then we should go to one of the estates, manage things there. If the privy council can demand a child and then if we are to be shut up out of sight of the people, as I suspect we shall be, then we should be able to chose our prison.” 

“I do not think it would be prison, love.” Hodr sighed. “However, you have a point about being kept out of sight.”

“We return for important events, of course.” Loki grinned. “We shall just spend all of our time away. You, me, the child and the cats. I'm certain Elsa and Jora would love open spaces to run around, places to explore, and not having to spend their time confined.”

“And you believe we will be allowed to leave the palace, why? I've barely been anywhere in this realm, the only time I have left was to attend my grandmother's funeral on Vanaheim when I was four hundred.” He let out a breath, picking up a lock of Loki's hair and twirling it around his fingers. “You sound so certain.”

“What are they going to keep us around for?” He snorted. “If they need something pretty to look at, they have Tyr. If they need someone to be the hero, that would be Thor. If they need someone obnoxious, well, Baldr has to do something around here besides looking as if he has his head up his ass.” 

Hodr let out a mirthless laugh. “I assure you, my twin is normally not like this. He just took the arranged marriage poorly.” 

Loki rolled his eyes. “Did he not skip the lesson that almost all marriages of our class are arranged?” 

“No, he was there. I just think he just elected to ignore them.” He sighed. “He needs time.” He nudged Loki and the two of them sat up. He wrapped his arms around Loki's shoulders and rested his head against the nearer of them. “I don't object to going to one of the estates, it's just... I wouldn't know my way around, and I do not do well in such situations.” 

“I'll be there.” He hugged his husband, “For now, I think we just need to tell the servants to get rid of those erotic tapestries.” He still could barely stand to walk into that room and not feel disgusted; even if they had given him and Hodr a few 'ideas' of things to try.

“I do not even know why they were placed there. Perhaps they were left from whomever lived here last.” He sighed. “That room would be nice for the cats.”

“Exactly what I was thinking. Jora won't like it that I won't let her sleep on the bed and Elsa's never been allowed.” He chuckled. “We shall say we do not wish the fine works ruined by two leopards who enjoy climbing, and sharpening their claws.”

Hodr kissed his cheek. “I would like to know who thought they needed to be placed in there in the first place. You are the only one who would see them. Perhaps they wished to shock you.” 

Loki shook his head. “I'm more appalled than shocked.” His stomach rumbled. “Breakfast?”

His husband kissed him again and smiled. “Breakfast sounds good.” 

The rose from the bed and went into the main part of their chambers, where a breakfast had been laid sometime in the early hours of the morning before either of them were awake. The food was still hot and fresh, and the feeling that sometime soon, such lazy meals, with them attired only in dressing robes, if anything, would not last much longer – made Loki determined to enjoy this whole day all the more. He certainly didn't mind filling Hodr's plate for him either. “What sort of preserves do you want on your toast this morning?”

He chuckled. “Raspberry, of course.” 

“I just thought I'd check to see if you wanted apple instead, for a change.” He grinned and finished with his husband's plate before setting it in front of him. “We are expected at dinner tonight, yes?”

Hodr nodded. “Thank you.” He indicated the plate and placed his napkin in his lap. “Late dinner, around eight o'clock, I think Tyr will be returning the cats before tea though.”

“That's fine.” He replied as he fixed his own plate. “We could go for a walk in the gardens while the room is being cleaned, or you could take me to the library. I've wanted to visit that place since you first told me about it, all those years ago.” 

“I would like that.” He nudged Loki's foot under the table. “I'm certain you would also like to finish unpacking. I do not believe you have touched your trunks more than once since we came into this room, and that was to get your hairbrush.” 

Loki flushed. “I haven't had cause to, I suppose.” He turned his attention to his own toast.

“I suppose I'm partially to blame for that, but I don't think unpacking was on either of our minds.” Hodr smiled, picking up his fork. “Fresh air would do us both some good.” He paused, frowning. “Come to think of it, I am not certain what our balcony hangs over, only that it an inner part of the palace.” His eyes narrowed. “Giving us a room with a view is rather... unnecessary.” 

He snorted. “Perhaps all that damn privy council thinks I need to see is the canopy of our bed, or the ceiling of this room.” 

“Or erotic tapestries.” He sighed. “I just wish my father had told the privy council to piss off. _He's_ the ruler of Asgard, not them.” 

“Well, we've only been married six days. There's plenty of time in the next two years for him to do so.” He chuckled. “Perhaps we could sic Baldr on them instead. I'm certain he's disgusted by the two of us holding hands. Norns only knows how he would react if he knew what we've been doing these past few days.” 

Hodr went slightly pink. “Don't tease. This... this hasn't been easy for him.”

“It's not been easy for any of us.” He sighed. “All we can do is move forward and do our best with how things are.” 

**  
Thor finished burying the ashes of their campfire as Baldr checked the horses. This hunting trip had been nothing more than a distraction, and most of what they had caught they had already eaten. He dusted his hands on his pants, letting out a breath. He wasn't certain how his brother would act when they returned home; he'd barely said a thing all week. It was frustrating to say the least. He rose to his feet and went over to where the animals were tethered. “We could hunt a while longer, there's nothing we have to return for.” 

“I do not like leaving Hodr alone with that... that creature.” His brother shook his head. “We shouldn't have left them alone.” 

“They were far from alone. You did not protest so when Tyr married. It will not be long before one of us is married as well, and we will have no more say in our future spouse than our brothers did.” He adjusted a saddlebag, shaking his head. “I do not think Loki is the monster you seem convinced he is. Would you protest as such if he were a jotun female?” 

“Yes!” Baldr snapped. “I...” He shook his head. “Hodr is too young to be married.” 

“Nevertheless, he is wed.” He sighed. “We cannot change what has happened, Baldr. We couldn't have stopped it from happening any more than we can stop the sun from rising. We were brought up with the understanding that while we have some freedom, our lives are not our own. The good of Asgard and all of the nine realms comes before any of our wants.” 

“You sound like Father.” His brother snorted.

“At least one of us does.” He muttered and then double checked the grounds. “We should start back, if we want to be home by sundown.” 

Baldr nodded and swung into the saddle. “I suspect we'll being seeing the jotun at dinner from now on.”

“Loki, brother, he has a name.” Thor mounted his own horse. “He is our brother in law now, and it will not help the realms if you continue this vile behavior.”

“Father should have told us about this arrangement years ago. It seems unfair that the jot- Loki has known his whole life and we have known less than two years.” He huffed and they started away from the campground.

“I am in agreement with you on that point. I thought Mother was going to kill Father when he told us.” He chuckled. “But at least we have not lost our brother to Jotunheim.” 

“True.” His younger brother frowned, focusing on the spot between his horse's ears. “Do you suppose Father will do the same to us? Or has done the same? What if you're already betrothed to a Vanir and myself to a dark-elf?”

“Then we will do what we must.” He smiled. “We know those princesses, they are all quite lovely.” 

“Still.” His expression brightened. “I am glad that Hodr does not have to leave Asgard, as Tyr did.” 

“Tyr did not have to leave forever, only for a score of years. It was because Ilika's grandfather was ill, and he wanted his family all home.” Thor felt a smile tug at his mouth. “We shall become accustomed to Loki's presence in our lives. His life has changed far more than ours has.” 

“It will take a while to grow used to him.” Baldr shook his head and glanced skyward. “At least there's no rain to slow us down.”

“It has been rather damp.” He chuckled. “Perhaps we should have gone fishing, rather than hunting.” 

“It wasn't a total waste.” He gestured to the bundle of game birds slung in front of him. “I'm just rather sorry we weren't able to get a boar or two.” 

“Ah, the time's not right for boar. We'll hunt again when the seasons change.” Thor took stock of the six birds on his own mount. “Tyr will come with us next time. He's always up for a good boar hunt.” 

“I always felt it was a shame that Hodr couldn't come on hunts. Even if he is not a part of it, he still should have been allowed.” Baldr ducked under a low branch. “Mother really shouldn't have kept him at home so often.”

“Mother has always had her reasons, but I concur, we should have been allowed to bring him along. I believe Mother often mistook our brother's blindness as helplessness, and by the time he had convinced her otherwise, we had, much to our shame, grown apart and saw him as several decades younger than us, instead of the...” He paused. “How much older are you than he again?”

“Seven minutes.” Baldr shook his head. “Sometimes, it feels like seven years, and then there are times that I swear he is the eldest of us all.”

“Tyr would most certainly agree on that point.” Thor chuckled. “Come, let's have a race.” He wanted to keep his brother in a light mood.

“Always wanting to compete.” Baldr rolled his eyes. “I can't believe how childish you can be some... go!” He kicked his horse into a gallop.

Thor watched him for a moment. “Who's the childish one?” He shook his head and kicked his own horse to match the others' speed.

**

Loki leaned over the balustrade, gazing down into the corridor his and Hodr's balcony resided above. His husband had been right; there wasn't much of a view, at least, nature wise. Directly across from him, some fifty feet away, was a massive stained glass window that was part of an entire row of similar windows. He sighed and glanced down again, noting that the passage below was empty, save for a passing scribe and two servants. He missed his mountain view, but at the same time, it was a bit of a relief to see the ground so close. There were two pipes that ran down from the roof, several floors above them, they flanked the windows and at the corners of the balcony, there were two gargoyle heads, their mouths open for water to pour out of them.

“Loki?” Hodr's voice said from behind him. “Are you out here?”

“Yes.” He answered, not turning around. “I was just taking in our lovely overlook.” He chuckled. “We have a small garden here consisting of a lilac bush and some strange red flower I do not recognize.” 

“It is most likely a firestar bush, they grace nearly every balcony in this place.” His husband came out and Loki felt the hand on his back. “I imagine the cats will use this more than us.” Hodr remarked as he set a hand out and then copied his stance.” I just hope they don't land on some unsuspecting maid or scholar.”

“I don't think they would attack either.” He retorted. “A passing guard, maybe.” He sighed. “I suppose we can no longer delay and must head to dinner?”

“Indeed we must.” Hodr stood and offered his arm. “Come, it won't be so bad.”

Loki linked his arm with his husband's. “You say that with such ease.” They walked off of the balcony and through their chambers. “Although I believe your sister in law sees us as allies in the dining room.” 

“Ilika does enjoy our company, I do know that.” His expression brightened somewhat as they went into the corridor. “And we shall return to find our chambers free of those disgusting tapestries and our cats waiting for us.”

“I'm rather surprised they have not escaped and sought us out.” He chuckled. “Then again, if your brother has been feeding them treats, it would explain a great deal. I'll apologize in advance if I have to drag Jora out of our bed several times tonight.” 

“It's fine.” Hodr squeezed his hand. “I do hope this dinner is civil.”

“I believe your mother's presence will be enough to keep all of us in line.” He grinned, “I've only known her for half a fortnight, and I already know she's the one not to anger in this family.” 

“Quite so.” His husband chuckled. “Unfortunately, my father continually forgets.”

*  
Frigga looked over the table, smiling faintly as the others settled into their chairs, rather glad they were having this first full family meal here, in the dining room, rather than in the feasting hall. It would not always be so; and while the hall offered some freedom, it meant little one on one conversation or keeping things private. This was, for all intents, much better. She'd wisely placed Baldr on the opposite side of the table from Hodr and Loki, trusting that Tyr could keep his younger brother in check. Once everyone was served the first course; she noted that both Loki and Ilika seemed rather apprehensive to take many oysters, things seemed calmer, if only by a fraction.

“It is good that we are all together.” Odin broke the silence and she shot her husband a look; she envied the way he could ignore a tense room. “Ilika, are you unwell?”

The poor girl looked up from her plate, her fork paused halfway to her mouth. “I am fine, thank you.” She turned her attention to eating.

“She is not yet accustomed to seafood, Father. That is all.” Tyr answered, managing a smile and then looked over at Loki. “I suspect you are having the same issue?”

Loki nodded slightly. “It is an excellent dish.” 

“Surprised you know how to use a knife and fork.” Baldr muttered and then hissed. “What was that for?” He shot at Tyr.

“You know.” He snapped.

“Boys!” Frigga interjected. “Enough of that, or I shall ring for a nanny to take you to bed right this minute!”

Baldr and Tyr both went pink while Thor and Hodr began to chuckle and Loki and Ilika both managed to grin. 

“This is why we could not have this meal in the feasting hall. Because of behavior like this.” Odin shook his head. 

“Father, we always act this way when there are goblets of wine at the table, and not tankards of ale or mead.” Thor quipped, then picked up an oyster shell with his hand to eat the meat within.

“That reminds me,” Hodr spoke up. “The cats didn't destroy anything, did they, Tyr?”

“No, although Loki, that cat of yours shed a great deal.” He smiled. “But I suppose that's to be expected.” 

“I apologize for that. I should have groomed her a little better before we came.” Loki finally seemed to have freed the meat of his oyster from the shell. “But unfortunately, when I had the time to do it, Jora decided she would rather hunt.” 

Frigga shot Baldr a look and shook her head when he opened his mouth, essentially silencing him before he could say something that could start another argument. “I take it you are completely unpacked then, Loki?”

“Almost. I need to put my books away.” He started on another oyster.

“How was the hunting?” Hodr turned towards Thor. “I fear the weather wasn't the best.”

“No, it wasn't. But there's a small covey of birds that will be served as part of tonight's meal. Parlst.” Her second eldest beamed. “Although we might have fared better with fishing.” 

“Fish only taste good the day they're caught.” Tyr remarked. “Generally.” 

“Oh, no doubt.” Hodr answered. “I do love roast parlst.” 

“I think everyone does.” Tyr added. “I am sorry I couldn't come along.” 

“You could have gone, I wouldn't have minded.” Ilika remarked. “I am quite capable of taking care of myself – and two overgrown lap cats.” 

*  
Dinner, in Hodr's estimation, had been grand, his twin's opening remarks notwithstanding. When he and Loki returned to their chambers, he was nearly bowled over by an overenthusiastic leopard who began licking his face and purring. “Now this is rather embarrassing, he rubbed Elsa behind her ears, knowing that Loki was still standing by the door. “I think she missed me.” 

“I'll say.” There was the click of the door closing. “Norns, Hodr, what have you been feeding that poor animal?”

“What's that supposed to mean?” He felt something brush past him and then heard a cat hiss.

“Now, Jora, none of that.” Loki's voice became closer and he guessed the man had crouched down. “Elsa's smaller than Jora, that's what I mean.”

“I think it has to do with where they came from.” He replied, rather defensively. “I also imagine Jora had more things to hunt.” He let out a small laugh when the leopard laid down on his legs. “I believe that's a clear sign that I'm not to go anywhere.” 

Loki let out a snort. “Well, we can't sit here in front of the door. We should at least move to the sitting area.” There was a rustle of fabric and he heard the man walk away, followed by the padding of footsteps. Then, much to his surprise, the weight of Elsa was off his legs and he was able to rise and accompany them. 

“I don't know if I should be offended by that or not.” He remarked as he paused by the couch. Something nudged his leg, a head to large to be Elsa's. “Oh, now you will say hello?” He bent down and he could feel the leopard's hot breath on his face. “Jora.” He swallowed. “She won't bite me, will she, Loki?”

“No, if she was going to, she would have done so already.” His voice was near; he was sitting on the floor in front of the couch. He let out a grunt. “I take it the leg sitting is Elsa-speak for 'pay attention to me'?”

“Yes.” He chuckled and reached a hand up, brushing it against Jora's head. Loki had been right, the cats were different in size; the one in front of him had a wider skull and her fur was thicker and finer than Elsa's. “Well, aren't you...” He was cut off as a rough tongue began licking him on the cheek. “I'm not your dinner!” He laughed and rubbed the animal between the ears.

“She likes you.” Loki laughed and then let out an odd sound. “I'd forgotten how bad leopard breath could be.” 

Jora pulled away from him and a moment later, he heard Elsa walk past him. “Guess they figured out where their room was.” 

“Yes.” Loki took his hand and pulled him up onto the couch. “Now we're all together at last.”

Hodr chuckled and hugged his husband. “What were you and my mother discussing after dinner? I would have joined you, but Thor insisted I hear more about his and Baldr's hunt.”

“I asked if she knew of any fertility potions.” He gave him a soft kiss. “My thinking is, if I cannot get with child before the end of this fertile period, we'll try a potion that should make it next to impossible for me not to get pregnant during the next one.”

“I know you suggested such a thing, but it seems... wrong, in a way.” He sighed, settling into Loki's arms. “Then again, that damned council needs to keep their noses out.” 

“Sooner we have a child, the sooner we shut them up and out of our lives.” He let out a groan. “You're right, it does seem wrong. It is not that I do not wish for us to have a child, I would rather just let us go about it in our own time, and not on someone else's schedule.” 

“It's unfair.” He shifted and pressed a kiss onto Loki's chin. “How much longer does your fertile time last?”

“Two more days.” Loki answered. “Then it will be roughly four months until I am again.” 

He smiled and slipped a hand into his husband's hair. “Then let's not waste these two days.” He pressed his lips to Loki's, inwardly hoping that Elsa and Jora wouldn't come and interrupt them. 

*  
Baldr looked back over his shoulder as he made his way down the corridor, not entirely convinced that he wasn't being followed. It was late; nearly time for the first bell of the morning and while he had dozed in his own bed, he decided that he couldn't break up Hodr and Loki's marriage, he could at least keep an eye on things. And that was something he couldn't do from his room. 

Honestly, sticking his brother and that jotun in a corner of the palace that ran along opposite of the library might be considered an insult. This was a place for maiden aunts and bachelors, not a newlywed couple, certainly not the brother of the next king of Asgard. If Father could ever get around to deciding if it would be him or Thor. Knowing his father, the old man might just tell both of them off and give the crown to Tyr, by right of him being oldest.

Then again, that was what had gotten plenty of kingdoms into trouble. 

Not that Tyr would be a poor king; but given that he had long been taken out of the running, he was no more prepared for the throne than Hodr. 

Baldr chuckled to himself and checked the last corridor he had to cross before coming to the one where Hodr's new chambers were located. He smirked and renewed his journey. The jotun was probably still getting used to sleeping in a bed; or maybe he'd sleep on the floor with those cats, like the animal he was. It was rather amusing to watch; Loki knew how to wear clothes, eat with utensils, read, and a few other common things. Perhaps he was a rare thing among his kind. 

He slipped into the room, unsurprised by the lack of guards. He was so deep in the palace, that any external assassin would have gotten lost by now; and only a fool of a servant would try something. The room was lit only by the fire, which was almost nothing but embers at this point. The two leopards were curled up in front of it, neither of them stirred as he came closer, noting that the jotun's was larger than Hodr's; and its tail thumped against the floor and the beast yawned and he froze, knowing that if the animal awoke, it would see him as an intruder. 

The animal rolled and went back to sleep.

Baldr let out a deep breath and scanned the rest of the room. Two glasses of wine stood on the table, both mostly drunk, and the decanter stood half-empty. He frowned at the sight of clothing scattered around the couch, and he turned towards the bedroom, the gentle drone of his brother's snores assured him that like the two cats, the couple within were slumbering. 

He calmly walked into the room, and his mouth went dry. Hodr's arm was draped over Loki's front, their heads resting against each other on the same pillow. The jotun's dark hair was in two braids, and they were both shirtless. What really unnerved him was the look of utter contentment on his twin's face. He was smiling, a wonderful, natural smile as if there was nothing wrong with lying in bed with a monster. The jotun had a similar look and as he watched, the blue face wrinkled, and he let out a weak cough. He then shifted and yawned, much as the cat had done.

Baldr shook his head and went around to the other side of the bed, tossing his robe along the foot of it, and he removed his slippers before sliding under the covers. He had just tucked a pillow under his chin when he saw Loki sitting up, staring at him.

“Baldr?” He blinked, those unnatural red eyes glowing in the dark. The damn thing could see in the dark. “What are you doing?”

“I missed my brother.” He gave the jotun a smile. “We used to sleep together all the time and I've slept poorly these past few weeks.” 

The monster's eyes narrowed slightly, then he returned the smile. The stupid thing was fooled. “Good night then, Baldr.” 

“Good night.” He replied, waiting until Loki laid back down to glower at him through his twin's back. 

The lack of clothing told him enough; his brother had actually _copulated_ with the beast. 

He was here now. They wouldn't do anything remotely like that as long as he was in the room with them. Especially not with him in the bed. His brother wouldn't have to degrade himself ever again.


	9. Chapter 9

Hodr was always careful when he got up in the middle of the night to not disturb Loki's slumber. He was about to slide out of the bed and head for the bathing chamber when he felt another person lying next to him. “What?” He slid his hand along an arm and instantly knew who it was. “Baldr!” He shoved his brother hard and heard Loki grunt behind him. “Get out!” 

“What?” His twin's voice was sleepy. “I don't...” 

Hodr seized a pillow with his other hand and hit his brother with it. “Out! Now!” 

“Hodr?” Loki mumbled. “What's going on?”

“Get out of our bed, Baldr Odinson!” He cried. “You're not supposed to be in here!”

“Now, I can explain...” Baldr began. “I just...” 

“I know what you're up too.” He snarled. “You're a little old to be running to someone else's bed when you have a nightmare.” There was a growl and then he felt a great weight on the bed near his feet, along with the smell of raw meat, a second weight joined it and a low hiss sounded in his ear. The cats were on the bed, most likely ready to eat his brother for a midnight snack. “Jora, Elsa – down.” 

“Hodr, I just...” His twin tried again.

“Are you deaf, Baldr?” Loki snapped. “Hodr has asked you to leave. Please do so.” 

“I don't think...”

“Exactly brother. You don't think. You're terrible at thinking. That's the only reason I can imagine of why you felt the need to come down and get into mine and Loki's bed and sleep.” He set a hand on the cat nearest him; the thickness of the fur meant it was Jora. “Get out.” 

He felt Baldr's leg kick his as he exited the bed, stumbling over something – perhaps it was a pillow. “I...” He took a breath and Hodr heard him move around the room. “Which of your cats decided my shoes were a snack?”

“Be glad your feet weren't in them.” Loki retorted. “You liar.” 

“I haven't...” He started and was cut off by a growl. “I'm going.” A moment later the door opened and shut. 

“I'll be right back.” Hodr muttered and left the bed, his anger still not cooled with Baldr's departure. It would have been one thing if his brother had been drunk or sleepwalking, but he had come here, deliberately. Once he had finished his business in the bath, he returned to the bed and felt Loki's arms enfold him. 

“I'm sorry.” He sighed. “I was awake when he came in here, I should have sent him away.”

“Why on Midgard didn't you protest?” He didn't mean his angry tone as he spoke. “Honestly...”

“He informed me that you used to share a bed when you were younger and that he was lonely. He dislikes me enough, and I didn't want to start a fight.” He sighed. “I should have known better.”

“No, it's his fault. You're not to blame.” He gave Loki's arm a squeeze. “Off you two.” He kicked his foot out, and felt the weight leave the bed. “They should have chased him out of here.”

“Well, we'll make sure they do it from now on, in case Baldr thinks he can come back.” They settled down on the bed, Hodr's head resting on Loki's chest, the even rhythm of his heartbeat calming him. “I'm just glad he didn't come any earlier. He might have seen or heard something he definitely shouldn't have.” 

“I do not think my brother is in to voyeurism.” He quipped.

“Ha!” Loki cried. “Half of the court are voyeurs. I could be considered guilty of the vice myself for noticing who watches other people, for lack of a better term, make out. Although I think there wouldn't be nearly as much voyeurism if there weren't so many exhibitionists.” 

Hodr snorted. “Is it that bad?”

“I saw that friend of Thor's... what is his name, Fandral?” He paused. “I would say he's the thin one, but...”

“I know who you mean. What was he doing?” He asked, rather curious as to what his bride had seen.

“I don't know who the maiden was, but I believe Fandral was cleaning her tonsils with his tongue.” He sighed. “Although I think he may have the morals of a tomcat, as I've never seen him kissing the same maiden twice. That's going to get him into trouble someday. He'll sleep with the wrong girl and find himself taking an arrow to the knee. But better than than an knife to the hip.” 

“I'm not familiar with that phrase.” Hodr closed his eyes, snuggling against Loki. “What does it mean?”

“You know of how chastity is valued on Jotunheim, yes?” Loki yawned.

“I do.” He replied. “You also said it's not unheard of for couples to have relations before marriage.” 

“Yes. There are also those who would ah... have relations with someone against their will.” He swallowed. “If convicted of such a crime, the sire of the victim, or an uncle or other male relation, is allowed to castrate the attacker.” 

Hodr swallowed hard. “That sounds both barbaric and sensible at the same time. Here on Asgard, the victim is usually blamed.”

“That must be one of the most ridiculous things I have ever heard. I suppose the attacked would be in even more trouble if they defended themselves and seriously maimed their assailant?” He retorted.

“That, I could not say.” He frowned. “I agree, it is wretched. Although I believe Jotunheim might be a little ah.... extreme in their actions?” 

“If we had a little girl and someone did something unspeakable to her, you would not want to tear them limb from limb?” Loki's voice had an edge to it.

He felt his cheeks flush and he sighed. “I see your point. Many would agree – it is never seen as wrong until it happens to someone whom you care about, I suppose.” 

“Perhaps castration is bit to big of a step for Asgard. Perhaps they should just flog the bastard in public instead.” He chuckled. “I hear on Alfheim, they have a group of women who beat the rapists and abusive spouses with sticks.” He yawned. “Sleep now.” 

“Yes.” Loki snuggled against him. “Sleep is good.” 

“Very good.” He answered, smiling.

**

Baldr laid awake in his bed, unable to sleep. It had been close to four in the morning when he returned and now, it was nearly eight. The palace and the city had come alive around him, while he fumed and dealt with the fact that not only was his twin married, he was _happy._ A small part of him tried to reason with the greater part of him that it wasn't horrible; that he still had his brother and Hodr wasn't going anywhere – but at the same time, he couldn't get over the fact that his brother was married to a fucking frost giant and the two of them were quite the happy couple and it disgusted him.

He heard a servant setting up his breakfast in the other room and he reflected that perhaps, it was a good thing he'd slunk back here when he did. If the servants found him in Hodr and Loki's chambers, the gossip would have been wretched. Particularly if it had been discovered that his bed hadn't been slept in at all. 

So he was stuck with Loki for a brother in law. 

Damn and blast. 

He feigned sleep when he heard a servant come into his sleeping chamber and open the curtains, humming to herself as she unlatched the windows, letting in the cool scent of rain and fresh air. As she departed he stretched, giving the illusion he'd slept well and then he sat up, realizing he'd left his mostly eaten shoes in his brother's chambers. “Shit.” He hissed and took up his robe, hoping that maybe, just maybe, those cats finished off the evidence. Well, it had to have been Loki's cat that ate them, as Elsa was too well behaved to have eaten his shoes. Unless she had picked up some bad habits from that mangy creature of Loki's – Jora, wasn't it? 

“Damn animals.” He slid out of bed and went into the main part of his room, lifting the cloches off of his breakfast dishes, inspecting what he'd been given. The usual sausages, fried potatoes, eggs, fruit – and a large basket full of biscuits. He poured himself some tea and then sat down, frowning. There was very little he could do to change the current situation. Not without risking war with Jotunheim. 

Perhaps he needed more time away; let his anger cool somewhere else. 

Yes. That would work perfectly. It wouldn't be too much longer before Father decided that he should be wed. He could take a tour of Asgard, show some commitment to wanting to become the next king, rather than bashing test dummies the way Thor did. Roam around the realm and meet some of the noble daughters who could not come to court due to distance. It would work out fine for everyone involved; he would show Father that he was responsible, and at the same time wrap his head around the fact that Loki was not leaving. 

He smeared jam on one of the biscuits, wondering how long the jotun had known he was coming to Asgard? Had he been told only a few weeks beforehand? No, he'd arrived with all those trunks of his, he had to have known for decades, if not several centuries. Maybe he'd always known? His birth-date was somewhere near the end of the war, so, no doubt King Laufey already had him in mind when Father and he created the treaty. Hodr had known of the arrangement well before he or his brothers. He must have found out by accident and Father swore him to secrecy. Or, as the one who would be married, he had been told out of necessity. 

The court would soon have Tyr and Ilika's son to exclaim and coo over, or whatever it was that they did with newborn babes, his absence would be marked, but it would be forgiven and anyway, soon most of the court would retreat from the city for the summer.

Regardless, he needed to get out of here. If only for a handful of months.

**

Sif wondered what in the Nine she had done wrong to receive a summons from General Lysar, the Master of Arms. As she went over in her head what she might have said, what her actions of the last few days had been, she kept coming up with nothing. She straightened her shoulders as she knocked on the door of the man's office, thoroughly prepared for some sort of dressing down or a reprimand of some kind. 

“Enter!” The man's voice called and she pushed open the door, stopping short when she saw that the general was not alone. Sitting in one of the chairs in front of his massive desk was the jotun prince, and when she came in, he stood up. She hadn't gotten a good look at him until now. He was slightly taller than she, and he was dressed in pants and a loose shirt, rather than those long, almost dress-like tunics she'd seen him in at feasts.

“Good morning, General Lysar, Prince Loki.” She bit at her tongue, wondering if she'd just made a gross mistake of protocol. 

“Good morning, Lady Sif. Please, sit down.” He indicated the other chair. She slid into her seat, noting that the prince waited until she was sitting until he resumed his. “Lady Sif, I have called you here this morning because Prince Loki has expressed a desire in weapons training. Prince Thor recommended you for the job.” 

She blinked, glancing at Loki before back at the general. “Sir?” This didn't make any sense at all. _Thor_ recommended her? The prince wanted to learn how to use weapons? “I do not understand.” 

“While Prince Loki is adept at seidr and ranged combat, he wishes to learn hand to hand.” He was smiling. “If you wish to take some time to accept this task, that is acceptable.” 

Sif snapped back to the moment, knowing that only a fool would refuse the honor she'd just been handed. “I am more than willing to do this, General.” She glanced at Loki, who ducked his head suddenly, and if she didn't know any better, she would say he was embarrassed. “Although I would ask for some time to ah... prepare?”

“Of course.” The man smiled. “The schedule is something you and Prince Loki will need to discuss and work out between the two of you.” He stood and then she and Loki did as well. “That will be all, Lady Sif.” 

“Thank you.” She inclined her head slightly.

“Thank you, General.” Loki's voice almost caught her off-guard. He hadn't spoken a word this whole time. He turned to her. “And thank you, Lady Sif.” He held out his hand, and she went to the door, with him behind her. Once they were out in the corridor, she let out a breath she didn't know she was holding. “I am sorry if I have done something wrong, my lady.” 

“What?” She shook her head. “Nothing of the sort. I just – the reason I was called here was not what I was expecting.” She regarded him for a moment, not certain how, exactly, this was going to work. “Did you really ask Thor for this?”

“I did.” He smiled, rather faintly. “Forgive me, my lady, but I feel it would rather be easier to have a teacher would understand when I state that I am cramped from my neck to my ankles and have no desire to get out of bed.” 

Sif almost smiled at that. She knew that feeling all to well, and had had gotten more of her fair share of grief of using it as a reason for being slow, or not up to par. “I suppose I should ask this flat out, as it will be important. What is the possibility of you currently being with child?”

Loki's cheeks went from cerulean to cobalt. “I would put it at eighty percent. But please, tell no one that I told you that.” 

She lifted her chin, smiling. “Of course.” They started down the corridor. “We'll start with something simple – with staves.” She glanced at him from the side. “Although I would like to see your skills with throwing knives and bow and arrow first.”

“Naturally, Lady Sif.” He gave her a grin. “Though I confess, you are far better at throwing them with your eyes than I am.” 

“I don't know what you're talking about.” Why had no one told her that the prince was so amusing? “Although I should warn you, your brother in law does like to spar on the training grounds and might see fit to challenge you once he hears you are officially my pupil.” 

“Then I shall turn him into a rabbit.” Loki quipped. “Clearly, as Prince Thor is two inches taller and outweighs me by several hundred pounds, it would only be fair.” 

Sif had to bite her tongue at the thought and then composed herself before answering. “How is that fair?” She turned to him.

“Lady Sif, have you never been told that in war, the bigger your disadvantage, the dirtier you're allowed to fight?” He grinned and they resumed their walk. 

“I suppose turning Thor into a rabbit wouldn't be too bad, provided you turned him back right away.” She was suddenly struck by image of her friend turned into a fairly large golden colored hare, trying to free himself from his mountain of armor and she had to hold back her laughter. “Although using seidr is usually seen as, if you'll forgive me, cowardly for a man.”

“But then I'm not entirely a man, now am I, Lady Sif?” He lifted his chin.

“No.” She paused. “I am sorry.”

“There's no need.” Loki set a hand on her arm and they stopped. “I know what sorts of things that the Æsir say about the jotun, and while no one has directly said it me, I can see it in their eyes.” 

Sif swallowed and looked away for a moment. “I suppose that Jotunheim has its fair share of stories about my people as well.” 

“Indeed.” He replied. “From what I can see, you are not all monsters who smother children in their beds and smash babe's heads under your boot-heels.”

She gasped in horror. “Of course not, we would...” Then she saw the look on his face as she caught what he had said. “That is...” She couldn't meet his eyes. “Tragically, there are some warriors I believe capable of that.” She frowned. “Is it true that your people ate the wounded and dead horses the Asgardian army left behind?”

“I was just a newborn when the war happened, but yes, that is true.” They continued walking. “It was meat and the children were starving. Do not tell me that if famine gripped Asgard people would not resort to the same.” 

She frowned, then sighed. “You have a point. My mother told me that there are three sides to every story. Your side, my side and somewhere in the middle is the truth.” 

“Quite so. It's also a truth that history is written by the winners.” He shook his head. “Enough of this depressing talk. The day is young and the weather is fair.” 

She chuckled. “I would love to know how you manage to shift subjects so quickly.” 

He grinned. “Practice, my lady.” 

**

Hodr had some reservations about Loki learning to use weapons; but as his husband had stated, those that did not wield swords could just as easily die by them. Perhaps it was that he felt slightly left out of the activity, but knew that he couldn't keep Loki all to himself, much as he would like to. He shifted in his chair, running his fingertips along the raised text of his book as he heard the door of their chambers open, and then he heard a servant moving in the other room, pushing a cart with a squeaky wheel.

“Just settle down you two, I brought your tea as well.” They sounded flustered.

“Jora, Elsa.” Hodr raised his head and let out a low whistle, and then he heard the cats heading for him. “Apologies for that.” 

“It is fine, your grace.” There was a clatter of tray on table. “It is I who should apologize for being late.” 

“It's not half past four yet, it is fine.” He sighed and rose to his feet, feeling the Elsa brush against his leg and he walked to the doorway. “Any messages?”

“No, your grace.” There was the sound of more trays being set down on the table. “Nothing more than the feast for your brother will commence at the eighth night bell.” 

“Thank you.” He replied, smiling faintly. Baldr, in a rare moment of maturity, had requested to go on a tour of the realm, which Father had granted. He wasn't completely fooled by the action; it was his twin buying more time to adjust to the idea of Loki being here. Still, Hodr was touched by the thoughtfulness. Just as he had been when his brother swore he would not come back to his and Loki's chambers uninvited. 

That had been a month ago and Baldr had kept his word.

“Good afternoon.” Loki's voice called from the doorway, he sounded; odd. 

“Good afternoon, your grace.” The servant answered and a few moments later, Hodr heard the door shut. 

“Sorry, I was delayed.” Loki took his hands and kissed him gently. “I should have been here earlier.” 

“Nonsense.” He returned the kiss. “It would be wrong of me to keep you indoors.” He sighed. “Tomorrow I believe I will join you, I may not be able to watch the training, but there's nothing keeping me from sitting and listening.” He went over to the table and felt Loki come up behind him, wrapping his arms around his waist, setting his head between his shoulders. “Loki...”

“I'm sorry.” He sounded on the verge of tears. “It was wrong of me to leave you behind.” 

He squeezed Loki's hands. “I was not left behind, my Sapphire. I remained here of my own free will. You spent centuries locked away, it is only natural that you long for fresh air and sunshine.” 

“My Topaz.” He hugged him tighter. “My training will not be so heavy. Lady Sif has decided that first, I must learn all the weapons in the armory and their many uses. She, in turn, wants me to help her learn how to throw knives.”

He smiled, setting his hands on his bride's wrists. “Let us have tea, and you can tell me more about your day.” He paused. “It seems odd that Sif would switch to fundamentals after teaching you stances the other week.”

“Lady Sif thought the matter over and felt it would be better to wait for another time to engage in strenuous activity.” He sighed and pulled away, and Hodr heard him setting things up on the table. “That is actually why I am late. She practically dragged me to the healing halls this afternoon.” 

Hodr lifted his chin, grasping the back of the nearest chair. “Loki?”

Loki took his other hand and set it against his stomach. “I know, you should have been there, I should have sent for you the moment we got there.” There was remorse in his voice. “But I have sworn both Sif and Eir to secrecy.” He swallowed. “Can you forgive me for that?”

He spread his fingers on his bride's stomach, smiling. “Of course, my beloved.” He kissed Loki's forehead. “How long?”

“Eir says the babe is nine weeks along.” He chuckled. “Meaning the babe was already there when we were told there had to be one.” 

He smiled and embraced him, pressing his face into his hair. “I'm afraid we'll have to tell my mother.” 

“Oh, I don't mind that.” His voice was light. “No one on this realm keeps secrets better than she does.” He chuckled. “And if this babe is a girl, the first person who suggests she should marry her cousin is getting turned into a rabbit and locked in a room with Jora and Elsa.”

Hodr snorted and then began to laugh as well.

*  
The Great Hall was a riot of activity. It had been some time since Frigga had seen it so gay and full of merriment. While she would miss Baldr while he was gone, she knew what he was up to; and she was rather proud of his decision; she had known that if anyone was going to have a hard time adjusting to the marriage, it would have been him. He would return home from his tour with his anger cooled and hopefully, more accepting. 

The only glum face in the room, however, was sitting right next to her. 

“Thor, your brother will only be gone for a few months.” She said to her second eldest, noting that he was poking at his boar absently. “Do try and look happy for him.” 

“I'm sorry, Mother.” He sighed. “I suppose it is my turn to feel left out.”

“I see.” She gave him a look. “Eat your meat, darling. I raised you not to play with your food.” 

He gave her a sheepish look and then took up his knife and began to slice his serving of boar. “These past six months have been too eventful, I fear. One announcement seems to come on the heels of another.”

“I understand, Thor.” She paused, took a drink of wine and then set the goblet down. “Perhaps when Baldr returns you could take a tour of your own.”

“No, Mother, I feel it is better if I remain close to home.” He glanced at her, then back at his plate. “I suppose I should tell you... I am considering to formally start courting Lady Sif.” 

She blinked at him in surprise. “Are you feeling lonely, Thor?” She saw his ears go pink. “I do not mean to tease, my son. I would be delighted if you were to court Lady Sif.” She took up her wine goblet. “Although I believe the rest of the court would be sad to see the two of you skirting one another to come to an end.” 

“Mother.” Thor still wouldn't look up from his plate. “You're awful, you know that?”

“Now, darling, you don't mean that.” She smiled at him. “Perhaps you could ask Loki to be your chaperone.” 

Her son took up his napkin and covered his mouth to hide his mirth. 

She set her wine back down and took up her fork. “I have no objections, and I can speak for your father when I say he will not have any either.” 

He set down his napkin. “Are you certain that Father does not already have myself and Baldr betrothed to princesses already?” He pushed some meat onto his fork with his knife.

“No. After I learned of what he had done in regards to Hodr, I asked the same and there are no other agreements.” She scanned the crowd, locating Loki and her son sitting at a table with Lady Sif, and then found Baldr, sitting with his friends and laughing. As she watched, she saw a servant refill her son's tankard with ale, something she'd observed several times in the past hour. “Although I would not put it past him to create one.” 

“Then I suppose I have made my decision at the right time.” Thor offered. “Although, I confess, I have no idea how to go about this. I know that first I must ask her father, then ask her.” He ducked his head. “These were the sort of things not covered in protocol lessons, or if they were, I was too busy daydreaming of spending time on the training grounds instead of paying attention, as I should have.” 

“My dear, I assure you that apart from the asking, every courtship is different.” She paused, glancing back over at Hodr and his company. “Perhaps you could ask Hodr and Loki for some assistance in the second part. It can be something as simple as the four of you having tea together. It would not be untoward if the four of you were to have it in the garden together.” 

“I do not know if Lady Sif would enjoy such... formalities.” He ducked his head again. “But then, I suppose I could ask Loki to ask her to join her and Hodr, and my brother could have asked me, and isn't this a happy coincidence?” He went pink. “Norns, that sounds like something from a Midgardian novel.” 

“I've read some of the books you have, Thor. I find that what you just suggested the exact sort of thing a rather bashful young man might do in order to start courting someone he wishes.” She smiled. “And I know, you are not so much bashful as you are about to enter a new form of battlefield.” 

“Courtship is no battlefield, Mother.” Her son raised his head, looking rather doubtful. “Not by any means.”

She took up her wine again. “I assure you, Thor Odinson, courtship _is_ very much a battle, and marriage even more so.” 

“Mother, that isn't very reassuring.” He lifted up his tankard. “But I think I will find a way for that tea to be arranged.”

“I'm certain Hodr and Loki would be more than happy to assist you.” She turned her attention back to her meal, glancing once more back at Baldr. She had a feeling she would need to make sure he got back to his chambers safe and sound tonight.

*

Loki was on the edge of sleep when he heard the outer door of his and Hodr's chambers open and shut and he burrowed deeper into the covers. “Your brother is back.”

His husband chuckled against his shoulder, tightening his grip on him. “After he promised it wouldn't happen again.” He kissed the back of his neck and let out a sigh. “Quit lurking, Baldr, it's unprincely.” 

Loki watched through half-lidded eyes as the young man came into the bedroom, dropped his shoes on the floor and glared at them. “You're sleeping too close together.” His voice was slightly slurred; Baldr was drunk – perhaps not as much as he had been at the wedding, but close to it.

Hodr snorted. “We've slept closer.” Loki knew he was making a point to be extra obnoxious when he tightened his grip. “Are you going to go to sleep or stand there?”

“You're not sleeping.” Baldr smirked and went over to the other side of the bed. “No funny business.”

Loki closed his eyes, wondering how much he should torment his brother in law, but decided that he wasn't going to be telling him that he and Hodr had already had sex once tonight and, until he had shown up, were enjoying a perfectly lovely post-coital snuggle that he'd rudely interrupted. Instead, he let out a yawn and tucked his pillow under his chin. Drunk or not, this was not where his brother in law should be. Ever. “Baldr, may I ask you something?”

The prince snorted from the other side of the bed. “I'm not leaving.” 

“Oh, it's not that.” He replied, sweetly. “I was wondering that if, when the baby comes, Hodr and I can count on you to take your turn when the infant wakes in the middle of the night.”

“WHAT?” He felt the mattress shift as Baldr sat up. “How is it possible for you to be with child?” 

Hodr snorted. “It could have something to do with the fact that my beloved and I fuck like rabbits when we have the chance.”

“You... you mean you have...” Baldr was spluttering. “But he... Hodr, how could you?”

Loki let out an indignant sound. “I assure you, it wasn't all his doing.” 

“Get out, Baldr.” Hodr snapped. “My beloved needs his sleep and stress isn't good for the baby.” 

“Although you're welcome to the couch.” He interjected. “It's quite comfortable.”

“I am a prince of Asgard, I do not sleep on couches!” His dramatic exit was ruined by tripping over his own boots, which he snatched up before standing and a moment later, the outer door slammed shut.

“Clever bride.” Hodr whispered in his ear.

He turned over and kissed his chin. “Charming husband.”

 _“Baldr!”_ Frigga's voice screamed from the corridor. “What were you doing in Hodr and Loki's chambers?” There came a yowl of pain from Baldr, the cause of which Loki could only guess at, but he assumed it was the Allmother seizing her son's ear and dragging him off back to another area of the palace. 

“One of these days I'm going to discover how my mother does that.” Hodr remarked.

“I believe it's maternal instinct.” Loki pulled him back down into another kiss. “I don't think your brother would want to even sit on that couch if he knew what we've done on it.” 

His husband laughed and snuggled close again, his hand slipping down to cup his barely-rounded stomach. “Sleep, love. You and our babe need rest.”


End file.
